Nancy Lindemeyer's Journal

Holiday Home Accents

2011-11-30T10:40:00.003-05:00

The holiday season is upon us and I'm thinking about decorating and how to make home holiday-happy. I've shared some of these insights in my latest blog for Hooker Furniture, inspired by accents from their collections.

Good wishes and good cheer to all!
NL

Thanksgiving Buffets

2011-11-17T12:23:00.002-05:00

Here are some fun ideas for how to make guests feel at home with Thanksgiving buffets.

Happy Thanksgiving to all!
NL

Feature Story in Westchester Home

2011-10-20T11:32:00.003-04:00

Exciting news! Westchester Home has run a feature on my nest in Ardsley-on-Hudson. Take a look and you can read about some of the stories and memories that make my home my home.

Best,
NL

Furniture Sideboards: Unsung Heroes

2011-10-07T20:38:00.003-04:00

In this season when entertaining moves inside the house, let's take a moment and give the sideboard its due. In my newest blog for Hooker Furniture, I propose some ways to enjoy this often overlooked, but very handy, piece of furniture.

Enjoy!
NL

The Case for Pillows

2011-09-21T12:39:00.002-04:00

In my newest blog for Hooker Furniture, I talk about some ways to make pillows your best decorating friend. Take a read and let me know what you think!

NL

Making Home Ready For Autumn

2011-09-08T17:22:00.003-04:00

The end of summer draws near and fall is in the air!

Thinking about some new accent furniture that reflects the color and tone of the season? I explore some options from Hooker Furniture in my latest Hooker blog.

May you read and be inspired!

Etiquette for the Home Office

2011-08-03T22:03:00.004-04:00

Happy Wednesday, friends. Here is my latest blog on Home Office Etiquette for Hooker Furniture. Home offices are more popular than ever as many corporations are finding it more cost effective for employees to work from home. Here are some tips to keep your office humming while your ensuring that your home remains your sanctuary.

Best,
NL

The New Work Space: Planning a Home Office

2011-07-30T19:50:00.002-04:00

If you are interested in setting up a home office or looking to re-vamp your current workspace, be sure to read my latest blog for Hooker Furniture.

Happy Saturday!
NL

Summer-logged

2011-07-22T16:46:00.006-04:00

I suspect the days in June were very rare for me indeed, as they seem to pass as if in slow motion. Too hot weather, too early at times, and then the perfect summer days that one wants never to end. And then there is the intensity of July! Is there enough iced-tea? Are the white shirts cool enough? Are the plants on the terrace getting enough water? July seems to ask a lot of us. Even getting to vacation locations has its imperatives.

And so I feel summer-logged. Perhaps it is something like being becalmed and hoping that a gentle wind will catch the sails and set you free. It isn't that I have not had "a good summer" so far. But basically, I am not a summer person. When fall comes, I feel like it is my season as it is quieter.

I have written about the incredible new book Keeping the Feast. I hope some of you have delved into it. Last weekend on a beautiful terrace I met the author, Paula Butturini. I am now rereading the book, seeing Paula on the pages as I had not before. There are people who must be born to take the hands of others and light the way. I think Paula is one of those. And maybe writing talent is given to those who truly have something to say. I would hope that all writers put this to the test.

Every once in awhile, there is a time that marks us forever. I remember being in Colette's garden in France on a rainy day in May and never have forgotten it. The meeting with Paula and her husband John Tagliabue reminds me of that occasion. That it was our wedding anniversary had special meaning, too. The hosts for Paula's book signing were former colleagues and friends of long standing and the aura of friendship was everywhere among the profusion of blue hydrangeas.

Paula is a spare woman with intense blue eyes. I had seen her picture, but I could not immediately pick her out of the crowd--a new hairstyle I think. She has a soft voice--one you can imagine reading a bedtime story to a child. But as she spoke and read from her book, there was a strength in the words I rarely get when author's read from their books.

Yesterday, I met Tricia Foley for lunch and then we went to Lincoln Center to see the production of War Horse. I can't remember the last time a production so engrossed me. The play, which originated at the National Theater in London, won the TONY for best play of the year--and I don't think anyone could disagree. I am not a theater critic, but the sight of these huge puppets manipulated at times by three and four people, was awesome. The story is about the horses that served in the First World War--some bought from farmers in England. One such horse was beloved by a lad who gets himself into battle to find him. It is based on a children's novel, so I am sure you can figure out the ending. I did find the aspects of war upsetting--but then they should be, shouldn't they? This is not a play where you leave the theater tapping your foot or humming. It is a story that stays in the veins.

Stay cool, wherever you are, in more ways than one.

Summer images from a recent photo shoot by Luciana Pampalone
War Horse image from http://www.warhorseonbroadway.com/

Sunny Saturday Musings

2011-06-01T12:35:00.005-04:00

I just saw an ad for a pale blue Fiat 500--and I am in love. It must bring back a memory when cars were pretty. Or maybe it's the thirst for blue hydrangeas that has me looking at the world through lilac-covered glasses.

And speaking of lilacs--my friend Sue in San Francisco sent a photograph of a bunch of fresh ones that she said reminded her of spring in her native Iowa. It is one of the beautiful signs of spring in the Midwest, as in many other parts of the country. I recall a drive through Vermont at lilac time and the air was perfumed by the profusion of flowers. Rochester, New York, has lilacs in abundance--and after a long and snowy upstate New York winter, they are truly welcome. This year it was May 11-20--so put it on your calendar for 2012. In Highland Park there are 120 acres to enjoy.

We have had such a siege of rain here in the northeast. So I am particularly pleased listening to Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue this morning. Oh, that first note on the clarinet is a tonic in itself.

Another rite of spring--lunch with my dear friend Mary. We have known each other "forever," but don't get to see each other that often: Mary lives in Florida for part of the year and I am back and forth to the Midwest. Just when we thought life was getting to be simpler, it doesn't seem so. We ventured to Tribeca in Manhattan and were hosted by my good friend Gerard. His jewel of a restaurant, Stuzzicheria, is a haven in the bustling downtown New York scene. It might remind you of an afternoon in Nantucket, but with an Italian flavor. Several of the table were 1930's enamel-topped, like the ones everybody's grandmother had. Fresh flowers, bowls of fresh fruit...I was right at home. My favorite desert is his olive cake. (I have the recipe--would you like it?) It's made with the zest of an orange and a spoonful of ice cream comes along side.

I have been thinking about Tricia Foley this weekend as she is having her open air General store in Yaphank on Long Island this weekend. Trish and Nantucket go hand-in-hand in my mind. Her fresh style reminds one of the clean sand and white sails along the coast. Trish can take a piece of string or a pebble and make something elegant out of it. Do visit her shop online. You'll get a taste of her enchantments.

And that brings me to musing about Anne Morrow Lindbergh's Gift from the Sea. Is it not a book one should reread every season? At Victoria, I got to know her lovely daughter Reeve and recommend the book she wrote about her mother, No More Words: A Journal of My Mother, Anne Morrow Lindbergh. The intriguing title comes from a poem by AML in The Unicorn & Other Poems.

We were privileged to print some of Reeve's recollections in Victoria, as well. I so remember how she learned to respect her mother when she was writing.

Here is a quote that from Gift from the Sea that seems so appropriate for a time of year when we look to the future of land and sea and to refreshing our lives:

"The most exhausting thing in life, I have discovered, is being insincere."

The natural world is bound by truth and it is to writers and thinkers like AML that we look to help us understand.

West Coast Style for Hooker Furniture

2011-05-25T11:57:00.002-04:00

Hooker Furniture asked me to post some tips on their blog about how to achieve West Coast Style at home using one of their new collections.

Enjoy! NL

Still Intrigued by Paper

2011-04-27T12:34:00.005-04:00

Recently, I wrote about Molly Peacock's latest book and the awe inspiring works of Mrs. Delany. I have now read the book and become even more intrigued by the scholarship and the author's unique approach. I think it proves that one can become possessed by the beauty of the past and find a way to make it part of one's life.

And then comes this from a friend--a reference to the current exhibit of the work of Isabelle de Borchgrave at the Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco. Isabelle was once a designer in residence at Victoria and has since gone on to dazzle us with her painted paper creations of costume. I have several of her books and when I take them out I am always truly amazed that human hands can create such beauty from a simple material like paper.

In Isabelle's first such venture, she worked with Rita Brown, then the costume director of the Shaw Festival in Niagara-on-the-Lake in Ontario, Canada. I had previously met Rita when we did a story on the theater. It made me so pleased to see two such talents involved in a unique project.

Do not miss going to the site to see what Isabelle has now wrought. It is called Pulp Fashion. I'm not sure I love the title because it seems too simple a word for such miraculous transformations. Isabelle fashions the paper and paints the defining details. The exhibit is a history of costume design relying on the dress depicted in paintings from museums around the world, as well as the more contemporary classics of Dior and Chanel.

One could wish for a meeting between Mrs. Delany and Isabelle. Intricacy is their stock in trade. Isabelle's vision brings to our day the spirit of Mrs. Delany. How fortunate we are.

Happy Spring!

2011-04-20T13:27:00.004-04:00

Enjoy some springtime inspiration with sugar Easter eggs.

Happy spring, everyone!
NL

Photo ©Wendi Schneider for Lindemeyer Productions Inc.
http://www.wendischneider.com/

Many Thanks, Lynn Goldberg

2011-04-09T10:06:00.007-04:00

What a total treat this morning to find a book from a publicist in my mail. I am always happy to receive a book, but this one takes me "over the moon," as one of my young staffers at Victoria used to exclaim.

The Paper Garden: An Artist Begins Her Life's Work at 72. I have not really read a word yet, but the cover, the cover line, and the subject matter having me hastening to my reading chair and settling in for a good long spell. It's not a very pretty day, although I see just the first brush of yellow on the forsythia bushes and the magnolia outside my window is promising blossoms soon. So read on I will.

I know the words "Mrs. Delany" will gladden many hearts among you. How we have reveled in her paper garden--floral collages of such delicacy and beauty that they have lasted for centuries. As I open the book, on one page there is a simple black and white graphic of a pair of scissors. Divine.

A small selection reads:

After making that vital imaginative connection between paper and petal, she lifted the eighteenth-century equivalent of an X-acto blade ...or a pair of filigree-handled scissors--the kind that must have had a nose so sharp and delicate you could almost imagine it picking up a scent. With the instrument alive in her still rather smooth-skinned hand, she began to maneuver, carefully cutting the exact geranium petal shape from the scarlet paper.

Then she snipped out another....commencing the most remarkable work of her life.

I do wish that the floral illustrations had a bit of gloss, but it is a small desire. I cannot wait to tear into the story of a life whose lasting work began in the third quarter of her life.

Poet Molly Peacock is the author of this tome of almost 400 pages. You can visit her website to learn more about her. Or look at the British Museum's collection of Mrs. Delany's work online. And, of course, do look at the website for the book.

Oh, and again, thanks to a publicist who put the right book in the right hands. How did you know, Lynn?

Adventures in Living Part II

2011-04-05T11:21:00.003-04:00

If you've ever dreamed about creating a beach house, be sure to read my latest blog entry for Hooker Furniture's Adventures in Living: The New England Beach House.

Enjoy!
NL

The Rebirth of Craftsmanship

2011-03-19T11:40:00.002-04:00

Happy Saturday!

I'm excited to share my latest blog entry for Hooker Furniture with you: The Rebirth of Craftsmanship.

Enjoy!
NL

Bulletin: Toshi Otsuki in Japan UPDATE

2011-03-15T11:02:00.001-04:00

We've just heard that all of Toshi Otsuki's family is safe.

We are so grateful for this good news, but saddened for all those who are distressed at this very trying time.

Best wishes to you all,
NL

Bulletin: Toshi Otsuki in Japan

2011-03-13T22:49:00.003-04:00

We are all praying for the people of Japan. The news reports strike fear in our hearts for all, but especially those we know personally.

Toshi Otsuki, our incomparable photographer for Victoria, and his wife Michiko are safe in their home near Ito City. They retired there several years ago, and both keep active gardening, enjoying their home and pets, and with Toshi's singing career.

I know many of the Victoria family have been worried about him. There are Otsuki family members who were in the hardest hit areas of northern Japan, and we continue to pray for them. Survivors will have a long road of recovery ahead of them.

It had been my intention to visit Japan this month as I have been thinking about going to see Toshi and Michiko for several years. Our family's comings and goings didn't make it possible. But now I am especially committed. Toshi sent a DVD as a Christmas card this year and it brought tears to my eyes to recall all the years we worked so successfully together.

In Toshi's video is a blow-up of one of the photographs he took for Victoria. It was a cover--a woman in 1920's dress with a fetching hat. It has always been one of my favorites, and I was pleased to see how it has stayed in his life and home. I have an enlarged photograph of a woman with roses in my apartment in Westchester. Toshi's very best work was in fashion and in the garden. Putting him around a flower was like seeing the beginning of a love affair. (I have been thinking of ways to bring Toshi's incredible record of Central Park for over 30 years in every season to the public.)

And so I am very relieved that his home is intact and his garden about to bloom into spring. But to all the people of Japan who are not so fortunate, we send our heartfelt prayers.

Providence

2011-03-09T12:45:00.002-05:00

I have become a firm believer in the concept of providence in my life. In My First Best Friend, I included a section about how "chance" brought old friends together. This past week, I had an incident in my life that I think qualifies as providential.

When I was in college, I worked summers and vacations at a wonderful sandwich shop and bakery in Bridgeport, Connecticut. For readers of Packing for a Woman's Journey, you might recall the story I wrote about the staff and how supportive they were of me and my college years. Recently, for some reason I can't really explain, I decided to see if the bakery was still operating. I knew in my heart of hearts it was not--but there might be a historical reference online to refresh my mind as to the address. Certainly the city has changed.

I found a few references to ads that the Harkabus Bakery & Sandwich Shop has placed over the years--and then, astonishingly, a reference in a new book called Keeping the Feast. The author, Paula Butturini, recalled going there with her mother whenever her mother developed a yen for a cream cheese on date nut bread sandwich.

Like a duck on a junebug, I ordered the book--and decided to write an email to the author, who has a very good website. I asked Paula if she could guide me to the Harkabus reference, and I told her a little about me and my connection to this place which she described so affectionately. Paula wrote right back!

Paula's book is not just about food memories of growing up Italian in Bridgeport and what that meant in her life, especially the food memories. It is a testament to the daily eloquence of preparing and enjoying meals in many circumstances. I hope you will look into the book as it is an inspiration as to how to deal with what most of us would deem almost insurmountable. Her experiences as a foreign correspondent are not ones that most of us would encounter. But she talks to her readers in a vernacular of fruit, vegetables, and the ingredients that sustain us.

Paula and I seemed to have a lot in common--including wonderful Italian grandfathers who brought drama to our appreciation of food and family. I feel that I know her--and hope that we can find a way to visit face to face one of these days.

I have to thank Providence and the internet for bringing me a new vision of the important things in life, and of what has been something I have always believed in: the power of love and the importance of memory in our lives. Do look into Paula's book. I guarantee you it will reward you in many ways. And if you love to cook, you will be humming in the kitchen, chopping away at garlic and sauteing rice in good olive oil in no time at all.

Musings in the Wind

2011-02-26T07:22:00.006-05:00

It is not quite March and I have no desire to rush the seasons. But it has been so windy that I feel the Ides of March in my bones. I am sure Mother Nature has a snow or two in store for us still.

I receive so many warm memories from readers of this blog and lately from former staff members, that I am inspired to share others. I never wanted this journal to be a trip backward. But it seems that the past is definitely a prologue at times--as the recent post from Catherine Sieberling Pond reveals. She did indeed write her first story for Victoria and she has gone on to be a writer of books and many articles. Her recent book, The Pantry, is something to dip into--as one might in one's own pantry of recollections. We had a real pantry in the house I grew up in--a little room all its own--as well as a back stairs whose steps served as a kind of pantry space.

I am delighted to know of Catherine's book and her ongoing activities, and proud as punch that Victoria was her springboard. She also met the photographers for her book through her magazine connections. Bravo to all--and I am thankful that the magazine existed and continues to connect in such personal ways.

Thinking back, I am often reminded of the wonderful man who made it all possible. I speak, of course, of John Mack Carter. While I don't get to spend as much time with John as I used to when we worked together and the years following when a lunch at the 21 Club was such a highlight for me, I often rerun conversations in my mind as we talked about so many things. His insights were always a revelation.

Once, when John was introducing me, he said this: "As her boss I used to look over her shoulder, but now I hold her coat." I have held that close to my heart ever since. My husband once said that he thought I ought to publish our correspondence because it was always so interesting and often humorous. But the words remain between us.

I had an opportunity to salute John on his retirement. Many of the people spoke appropriately of his influence on their careers and his many accomplishments. I took another path to John. I will never forget a spunky fellow very early in the morning in Central Park, holding a megaphone to round up his staff to take part in The Race for the Cure to support research for breast cancer. He was the only magazine executive of his stature there and, of course, we had the biggest contingents. That was John, a champion of women's concerns and causes. That John Mack Carter was a force behind Victoria is no surprise.

And of course, "Mr.Carter" (as we called him) was the reason I became an avid tennis fan. He generously shared his seats every year at the U. S. Open and it was there that I adopted the young Pete Sampras. Generosity is not something that necessarily comes with publishing DNA.

There was a movement once upon a time to say that men should not edit women's magazines. It sounded as sexist to me then as it does now. People should edit the magazines they are qualified to do. John survived the assault on his qualifications, as well he should have. And it was he who saw the possibilities of a magazine like Victoria and looked over my shoulder long enough to have it come into being.

I'd be happy to hold his coat any day.

Perhaps the wind blows the dust from our thoughts. And let's bring back pantries and all their hidden delights.

Photos: Nancy and John at the launch party for Victoria in the garden at the Cooper-Hewitt, National Design Museum; Nancy and John at a Victoria event.

Adventures in Living for Hooker Furniture

2011-02-24T21:01:00.004-05:00

My newest blog entry for Hooker furniture was posted today - Adventures in Living. Maybe it will provide you with some inspiration to help transform your home into an urban loft or Parisian apartment.

Happy Weekend!

Winter Musings

2011-02-09T09:08:00.005-05:00

How lovely the snow is--especially when one doesn't have to brave the elements to get about!

There is something about being blanketed by white that brings about a sense of peace and calm. It is a time to enjoy the books that Christmas presents brought and brew up a tea to keep one company for an afternoon.

And so what thoughts has this time brought forth: Twenty-five years ago with a broken arm from a slip on an icy sidewalk in Ames, I was at work on a concept for a new magazine. It is a strange word, but in the magazine business then, a proposal in the shape of a magazine was called a "dummy."

I can't even recall how many times we changed things. And when I say we, I am talking about primarily three of us--the nucleus of the staff that was to become Victoria. We wanted to have a perfect statement for a magazine like no other that celebrated women's lives in all aspects. I had long felt that we were editing magazines to women's roles rather than to the things that had always been important to women and I believed would never change.

Ann and Bryan, the twosome of the threesome, were at my apartment for a birthday brunch for Bryan recently. New grandparents, they have gone on to other careers since leaving Victoria. Ann is an executive in a nursery school service in New York City after going back to school for graduate degrees in early childhood education. Bryan has taken his skills back to the Meredith Corporation, where we all three started out. How nice it was on brisk day to enjoy my husband's specialty--a ham, cheese, and potato gratin (with thanks to Julia Child)--have fireside time and think about how our lives have changed in this quarter of a century.

I am sorry to report that our wonderful Helen Killeen, who many readers may recall ran our office, has had some health concerns. During her tenure at Victoria, she took every reader concern to heart and tracked down all kinds of information, no matter how small the request. Victoria without Helen would be unthinkable in those years. Her nephew, Steve, who also worked for us through his school days, doing errands, working on photo shoots, and helping in the office, is now the dad of four! Helen is in rehab and we all send our love and wish her well.

Helen and Steve are just two examples of how our Victoria family grew over the years.

In my winter musings, I am very grateful for the creativity and dedication that so many brought to a project that started out with an idea.

I have just had a nice email exchange with Julian at Meg Rivers cakes in England. In an early issue, we visited Meg to learn of her wonderful bakery and shared the recipe for her almond tea cake with our readers. Julian has carried on running the bakery with Meg's recipes after her death some years ago. I have ordered cakes now and then, and recently got back to the tradition by having an assortment of their cakes--as mini cakes--for Valentine's Day gifts. How delightful it was to get the message that Julian was off to Chipping Campden to mail my cakes to me! We both have fingers crossed that they get to the US in a timely manner and in good shape.

I was inspired by the cottages at Chipping Campden for my recent blog for Hooker Furniture. I've been asked to suggest some wonderful "dream houses" and the very first inspiration I had was for an English country cottage. Sign on for the series--and maybe be inspired to create your own living adventure. Home is where we can make dreams come true, no matter what our geographical address.

It is a much smaller world in 2011 than it was in 1986. What we relied on magazines to do for us, now websites and blogs do, too. How very much our lives are enriched by so many wonderful talents coming from all over the world.

The Merriest Christmas and Happiest Holidays

2010-12-17T10:05:00.004-05:00

Some time ago, there was a wonderful Cathy comic strip. I remember it every year as I somehow don't get all the things done I'd planned to do. Very resolute, she said to herself:

I will not start knitting on December 1.

How these days slip through our fingers. There are cakes to be baked, presents to be wrapped, trees to be trimmed, and lovely parties to attend. I adore it all, but I must admit to "editing" a bit more than I used to. Yes, Cathy, I will not start a vast project just before Christmas.

I want to enjoy the season--the hustle, the bustle and all the good cheer. My stepmother was a whirlwind and enlisted all the rest of the family in her magnificent plans at Christmas. Our tree was a sight to behold and her village under the tree, spectacular. She made Christmas so special for all of us and she inspires me still to deck the halls and try to think of special surprises. My love of Christmas was shared for many years with magazine readers--so I have had many more Christmas than the the personal ones in my own home.

And so from my family to yours, the greetings of a season of love. For in the words of the poet:

Love came down at Christmas
Star and angels gave the sign.

Photo © Wendi Schneider for Lindemeyer Productions, Inc.

Happy Thanksgiving

2010-11-19T16:28:00.003-05:00

I want to wish you all a very Happy Thanksgiving. I'm in Iowa where "harvest" is not just a word but a way of life for many people. All around me are fields that have been harvested. We have not had snow yet, but the days are chilly and crisp.

Please enjoy the two blogs that I have contributed recently to the Hooker Furniture site. Kim Shaver asked me to comment on how to accommodate all the guests for the holiday dinner as well as ways to welcome home college kids. Kim has a way of getting my editor's DNA going. It's fun to think on these topics...and find new ideas for new times.

The Lexington Company is a Swedish-based organization that seems to have it's finger on the American pulse. I thought you'd enjoy their take on Thanksgiving. I think they'd love to have such a holiday. I spent Thanksgiving in England once and was homesick for turkey and all the trimmings. Maybe things are different now with the Brits having embraced so many cuisines from around the world. The Christmas I spent at Michael's Nook in the Lake District did not disappoint. It was just the most wonderful Christmas one could imagine--especially since my husband and son shared it with me.

A final note--read David Brooks in The New York Times about the kind of magazines he thinks might survive today. Seems to me, it was the formula we used to begin Victoria. Let me know what you think--after you've had just the best holiday ever.

Cheers!

On Cathleen Black

2010-11-15T11:35:00.002-05:00

Some time ago I came to defend Tina Brown, a publishing super star, when she was being given a bad time in the media. My reason was not based on a professional relationship--although thanks to Tina I got my photograph, along with a slew of others, in Vanity Fair in the early days of Victoria. I had seen Tina and one of her children in a restaurant after mom had put in a long day at the office. I admired how she related to her child. She didn't know anyone was watching her--and she didn't know me.

As many former Victoria readers know, Cathie Black was my boss during the last years of my tenure at the magazine. Recently, there has been a lot in the press because after leaving the head of the magazine division at Hearst, she has been appointed by New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg to be chancellor of the New York City schools.

I was a teacher once--and continued to think of myself as one in the positions I held in publishing. My childhood goal was to be a history teacher. But I moved beyond the classroom of 25 students to one of hundreds of thousands. I kept that trust with my readers at Victoria. The magazine supported writers, artists, scholars, and women in many various pursuits. As we went along as a franchise, I was able to do more and more in this area. No boss at Hearst, including Cathie Black, stood in the way of this direction of the magazine as long as I was editor in chief.

But as I did with Tina, I have looked to my Cathie Black years to find not the hard driving boss to whom ad pages were a major priority, but to the mom and woman that I might relate to. Once, I was in a meeting with Cathie and asked to leave for a few minutes while she took a phone call from her son's school. Obviously there was some kind of problem, probably a little one--which is how I addressed the situation when our meeting resumed. For a few moments, she was the vulnerable mother worried about her child. Granted, it was from behind a desk.

When the writer Mary Pipher was brought to the Hearst building by Victoria for a reception on her being named one of the Stars in Our Crown, Cathie came to the reception and spent a good deal of time speaking with Mary. It seemed to me that she wanted to get the essence of this woman who had written so knowingly about young women in Reviving Ophelia. Mary is a plainspoken woman from Nebraska--and seeing the two of them locked in conversation did not go unnoticed by me. I was pleased to see Cathie, the business icon in high heels, engaged with Mary, the philosopher writer in sensible shoes.

This post is not to endorse Cathie Black in her new job. As a former teacher, I'd have my reservations about how her executive skills translate to a public service job. Having worked for Cathie, I have reservations about how her style of management will fit into the requirements of such an important role in the life of New York City's students. I think the thing I would wonder about most is if she does indeed have that stroke of genius that will be innovative at a time when such talent is sorely needed in education; or, does a business background lead one to rely on the tried and true? The word "management" is often attached to success in the business world. Is not leadership what is sorely needed in our public servants? And a leadership that comes from a deep-seated passion for what they are doing? Passion is not something that executives have always honed in their careers. Business executives have the luxury of dealing from the top down. But does not leadership require consensus building to motivate and steer a huge educational system successfully?

I will follow Cathie's tenure and hope to see the concerned mom and the compassionate listener. And I wish her well.

Two New "Musts" in NYC!

2010-11-12T11:05:00.003-05:00

Good News from Harney and Sons! For those of you who might be visiting New York in the future, here's a stop you won't want to miss: Our good friend John Harney and his company have a lovely new place. What could be better when holiday shopping than stopping in for tea--and stocking up on gifts at the same time?

I am in the Midwest at the moment, but am putting this on my list when I get back.

There is also a special little place in Tribeca to stop for a delightful lunch or dinner with an Italian flavor. My good friend Gerard Renny never disappoints when it comes to Italian classics with new twists. Stuzzicheria is also my cup of tea. The rice balls are fabulous--and their sandwiches are award-winning.

Cheers to all...

Tasha Tudor & Victoria Memories...

2010-10-29T10:25:00.005-04:00

As luck would have it, I just came across Victoria December 1989 with an extensive story on Tasha Tudor's Christmas. Oh, what lovely photographs taken by Toshi Otsuki. This issue brought back a flood of memories--1989 and 1990 were pretty big years for the magazine and for me.

In the Fall of 1989, Victoria went from a bi-monthly to a monthly magazine. This was a big step for the rather small staff--but there was a bigger mountain to climb. At the very same time, Victoria became the first magazine in the country to be produced completely via desktop publishing. Mind you, this was no small feat. We were pioneers...up until that point, magazines were created mechanically. Now everything was done by looking at a computer screen! I may have discussed this before, but it has never ceased to amaze me how my staff, led by art director Bryan McCay, was able to accomplish this. It took hard work, long hours, and a huge amount of effort. I decided that I would stand down in the process and concentrate on the creative side of the magazine, looking to the future. A magazine editor never lives in the present!

We finished 1989 with this wonderful issue, bringing the joy of Christmas and the holiday season to our readers, who never knew that our editors and writers were involved in magazine production as never before. In early January, I fell ill, most likely the result of stress and long hours: first with the flu and then pneumonia. It was a bit serious and I lost several weeks of work. Unheard of. Staff members came to my apartment for short periods of time to get my stamp of approval on things. They could have done very well without me--but neither they or I had come to that point yet.

The first day I returned to work, it was announced that Victoria was named ADWEEK's magazine of the year! We had only been a monthly for a few months, but here we were in some pretty exciting company; and we were number one! I was still pretty weak, and could hardly hold the huge bouquet of long-stemmed roses presented to me by Randolph Hearst. The pictures I have tell the tale.

Readers of a magazine or any creative product only see the end result...and that is as it should be. For those of us behind the scenes the memories are of a more personal nature. But I can't look at these resplendent pages without looking back from a different perspective: What a fabulous staff I had. How they supported me. What a victory we all had. But there is also another lesson here: Driving oneself too hard isn't such a swell idea. And maybe taking on too many challenges has its disadvantages. Of course, it's in my DNA to do both of these things. Usually simultaneously. Maybe the nice thing about getting older is getting a bit wiser of just how much one can do.

Dear Tasha kept busy for most of her 90 years. I think she had monitors to guide her: the rhythm of the farm, her animals, and her art. Her letter to me made it pretty clear that she paced herself with what was important in her life. Her Christmas celebration was a work of art itself.

If you have one of these issues on hand, enjoy it again.

The Tale of Tasha Tudor's Letter

2010-10-20T11:26:00.008-04:00

In 1996, Victoria was proud to have Tasha Tudor as an artist in residence. Together, Tasha and I agreed that she would create four watercolors, each depicting a different season, for the magazine's readers. We made prints of these delightful renderings available for purchase as each was created, and then all four in a set. We even created a Christmas tin at one point.

Tasha Tudor, the creator of many scenes from her Vermont farm life, is still very beloved for her books and her artwork. The marriage of Victoria and Tasha was a natural one--following on several wonderful stories in the magazine, including a Christmas with all the trimmings of the 19th century life she lived so faithfully.

When we began her residency in January, Tasha wrote me a letter--long hand, of course. It was also illustrated with the image of one of her cats, who had been naughty and stepped in the butter and then on to the writing paper. In true Tasha spirit, it was kind, lively, and very New England. Tasha wanted to be sure that I would give her enough time to do her assignments. After all, she reminded me, she did not just sit and create all day long. She had many chores to do about the farm and in my letter was a list of her responsibilities that is quite complete.

The watercolors came in a timely manner and were featured in the magazine throughout 1996. And so the readers experienced many of the enchantments of Tasha-land. Many bought the prints, and it was a very successful venture. In the end, Tasha received her original work back and I put the letter away with the memory of the experience.

Not long ago, the letter surfaced again, and I began to think that it should not be hidden away in a file in my office any longer. I began to search for a permanent place or archive for Tasha's illustrated letter to me. Recently, I found the proper place: The Norman Rockwell Museum in Stockbridge, MA. My correspondence with Stephanie Plunkett, curator, has been delightful. The museum has a collection of Tasha's illustrative work and often exhibits. (In fact, there is a traveling exhibition planned for 2012.) And so the letter is now in a place where others can enjoy the spirit of this remarkable woman that is in every word and line. Puss and the butter make it especially charming.

I minded Tasha and did give her ample time to create and she was so gracious to wish me a very happy 1996. It turned out to be so--and one of the years of the magazine that I especially admire all these years later. The prints have increased in value, as has the original artwork: One season sold a few years ago for $8500. Of course, it is not the monetary value that matters most, but the inspiration for Tasha to give us the seasons of her long life.

If you missed the features in Victoria, you can order cards online. There are two sets and I have a feeling you will only part with the cards for very special reasons.

The Long Hot Summer

2010-10-13T11:31:00.004-04:00

My grandmother used to call the autumn weather in Connecticut--"sweater weather." And so it is again after this very hot summer in both the Midwest and the East. And of course, we had a bit of extra water in Ames, Iowa. We escaped north for several days because our water supply was not drinkable, among other problems.

But it all seems like ancient history now in the days when the sun slides across us at a comforting slant. What hasn't gone unnoticed is the checking in of former Victoria staffers and freelancers. I haven't seen her since I left the magazine a decade ago now, but Patricia Romero hasn't changed a bit. She is still lovely and lively. (You can enjoy her post-Victoria work at her web site.) She became a mom just about the time I left the magazine, and Emma is now 11! Patricia joined Daniel D'Arezzo and me for tea a few weeks ago. The main topic was Daniel's soon departure to reside in Buenos Aires for a spell. Patricia gave him wonderful advice and introduced him to a friend who has already found Daniel some pretty nice digs in the city. Old ties and networks do pay off.

Heidi Adams wrote from Texas that she is about to travel to Japan and will see Toshi Otsuki. I am so jealous! But I look forward to her report this month and hope it will help me with the planning of my trip--hopefully next year. Heidi was so young and talented she knocked my socks off with her work at Victoria. She and her husband had their own shop for awhile, but she now has other projects to apply her super eye to. She always had a terrific smile and can-do attitude which won my heart.

Suzy Taylor and I keep in pretty close contact, but I have been especially happy to hear of her recent art show in San Miquel de Allende, Mexico. I've mentioned Suzy before--but check in at her site. Her paintings are spectacular and may just be what you need for that achingly empty wall.

An event of the summer was the marriage of Ann Levine's son, Tom. He was practically born in our Victoria offices--truly one of our legacies. Tom and Rachel will live in Albany where they will continue their educations. I have to blink not to see Ann pushing that stroller down the hall...years away from the wedding day aisle. How often we realize that it is our kids who make the leaves of the calendar fall so quickly.

Victoria readers will probably not recall the name Patrick Berry, but he was very much a part of our staff on the advertising side as our production manager. Patrick has tales of how he and I had friendly discussions of where to place the ads in the magazine. After a very successful business career, Patrick took his family to the University of Illinois where he pursued a degree in English literature. (I'd like to think that Victoria has something to do with it.) He's about to get his doctorate and move into the academic world as a college teacher. Bravo!

The nice thing about hearing from these folks was how much the Victoria experience meant to them. It makes me proud of the work we did--and it reminds me that as time passes there is something in our DNA of our good experiences that provides growth and vision.

The long hot summer had it's benefits--a good rest for me as well as a reevaluation of my own work. I don't mean to be a tease, but I am not quite ready to reveal what that means at the moment. I'm in one of those periods where the tide comes in and out--and my boat is not yet sea worthy. But very soon, I'll be filling you in on this new departure.

Do look at the Hooker Furniture Blog--I had fun being a magazine editor again! And don't forget that this may just be the time you met your first best friend--check in at the website and on Facebook for the book that needs some good advocates to introduce readers to its inspirational stories.

And pull your sweater on and take a good walk in the world of autumn.

Where are they now?

2010-08-05T20:57:00.002-04:00

Here's your chance to catch up with Kim Freeman. Kim is such a talented designer, and Victoria was so fortunate to have her as a contributing editor. When I am in Westchester, Kim is a neighbor and we get a chance to have lunch or tea and catch up. She has developed a wonderful design portfolio--and here's your chance to enjoy and learn a thing or two. I always do when I watch her work.

Kim, by the way, did many of the Favorite Things sections...they were always special, imaginative, an inspirational.

For the rest of the summer, I'm going to be off-blog. (Is there such a word?) I hope you all enjoy days like the ones Kim portrayed in Victoria's summer camp pages. I'll be back after Labor Day when I may have news about a new endeavor.

And for those of you who enjoyed MY FIRST BEST FRIEND, pass the word about how wonderful this relationship is and how others might enjoy the book. Soooo hard to break through all the media noise with good stories like these.

Best,
NL

A Shopping Spree--Roses and Garden Fresh

2010-07-16T13:46:00.004-04:00

I was delighted to find Christina Strutt's wonderful Cabbages and Roses online. Her shops in London feature clothing and home furnishings made in England and Wales. Victoria readers might remember Christina's name in some of the wonderful stories we reported from Great Britain. In her recent book, At Home with Country, she came across the pond to photograph both the New York City Studio of Tricia Foley (Trish to all who know and love her) and her picture perfect Long Island home.

Christina's fabrics remind one of the casual elegance of an English garden. And the photographs in the book as well as the wares for sale on the web site are a testament to the specialness of English interiors. When I looked at the fabrics, I was inspired to do some redecorating of my own--if only a few new pillows for sofas and beds. I really do have a passion for pillows. (I guess I could be investing in worse things!) You can really change the look and feel of a room, especially a bedroom with fresh fabrics.

Closer to home--when I'm in my New York digs--is the distinctive stock of Kristin Clotilde. But for those of you who want to experience it online, you're in for a treat. The home page is pure fun for shoppers. You'll see how this former Ralph Lauren model is spending her time these days. By the way, she and her twins once modeled for us in Victoria. KC is a firm believer in dresses! Remember those? The garments you can twirl in? Her stock in trade has a 50's feel--an Anne Fogarty appeal.

It's on my to do list to drive over to Larchmont and actually visit the shop. In the Thursday New York Times there's an article on how French women age beautifully. One of the things mentioned is that they are more dress-oriented than we are in America. I have to admit that dresses are not exactly a major item in my closet. But I'm very tempted to make a change to skirts and dresses this coming season.

That article has some good hints, including those from Leslie Caron. Leslie gave me her advice years ago--cold showers! And what I've observed myself of her dressing is well-tailored clothes in rich, deep colors and wonderful accessories. That scarf is really a big thing among French women as is beautiful costume jewelry--or the real thing is pocket books permit. I was in Barneys New York this week before going to my dentist. (I accuse him of being in a disaster zone for my pocket book.) I saw wonderful large-beaded necklaces with luxurious ribbon ties by Lanvin. Now that's a way to spruce up some of the beads in the bottom of the jewelry box.

And for a pure fun summer moment, spend some time on Lexington Company's site. These folks come out of Sweden, but have a real feel for what an All-American summer can be like. I feel myself on my knees digging for clams on Long Island Sound like I did when I was a kid.

Refresh and enjoy!

Jottings...

2010-07-02T08:58:00.002-04:00

Summer is upon us. And it seems many are spending time packing and unpacking. That's been my life the past few weeks. Book signings...and some nice publicity for the book, especially in Rochester and Minneapolis. Surprised that with two Des Moines, Iowa stories in My First Best Friend--and two other Iowa ones, that the local media wasn't interested. (I used to joke that Iowa claimed you as a citizen if you flew over the state.) However, some wonderful old friends found their way to the very nice Barnes & Noble at Jordan Creek in West Des Moines. It was great to see them. Two of the men were instrumental in my career in magazines. So I was especially happy and proud to see them and share the book.

There is another book we all talked about...Curtiss Anderson's Blueberry Summers. Curt died a few weeks ago. We will all miss his wit and wisdom--and those tales of growing up in Minnesota that never seemed to have an end. At the signing in Minneapolis, a woman asked me about men and their first best friendships, and I directed her to read Curt's book, which the store had in stock! Those readers of the blog who are VICTORIA fans might recall some of these stories in the magazine. That's where the book began--and among the many things I remain so very proud of about my VICTORIA years is inspiring Curt to write his story. I was particularly charmed by his remembrances of his "Aunt Clara," who was really the wife of his dad's best friend.

Kim Shaver at Hooker Furniture has asked me to participate in the blog she has created for the company. Right now she's posted one of my contributions on a topic inspired by a question she's received on how to face up to decorating inertia. It's a two-part entry based on lots of years of answering this question for readers. Once, a woman asked me if it was OK to use her antique tablecloth in a modern kitchen. My response was a little cheeky, but I think it worked: You have my permission. Everybody laughed, but I made my point. You don't need permission to do the things in decorating your own home. Do what pleases you! At any rate, check out the Hooker blog. I'll be contributing on a regular basis. Kim and I worked together on a collection for Hooker a few years ago and I have such respect for her efforts. She puts her heart and soul into everything she does; my kind of girl.

Hope you are all in the midst of vacations that take you to places that bring rest and refreshment. Let us hear about what you are doing on your summer vacation...

Marriage on My Mind

2010-06-14T23:08:00.003-04:00

I recently received a wedding invitation for the wedding of the son of a dear friend of mine. I know we all have this realization from time to time: Married? Isn't that kid still in rompers? How quickly the years pass by--and one day the boy who sat at your Thanksgiving table carefully moving around the vegetables he didn't fancy is now going to be a husband. I mentioned recently that another friend's son has just been wed, before being deployed for his third tour in Iraq. His wedding was especially significant to me because I wrote about his mom's wedding in my book, Jenny Walton's Packing for a Woman's Journey. His mom was one of the young women working with me--and our whole staff, with her mom's approval, got together and put on the wedding.

The wedding happened to be on my December birthday, and it was memorable for lots of reasons including the bitter cold and ice of an Iowa winter. Dear Ann, tiny but intrepid, walked across the icy parking lot of the church where the reception was being held managing a three-tiered cake she baked. I looked out the window and I stopped breathing for a second. She made it, of course. There must be special angels in attendance on such occasions. Suzy, who now resides in sunny Mexico, had flown into Des Moines from New York in a storm tenderly caressing the floral bouquets she had touched with a rim of gold. As for my contribution--I spent the fall months knitting a series of sweaters in pastel colors for the bridesmaids. The one in progress when my husband and I drove to see our son in high school in Michigan was a most delicate shade of lavender. At one point, with bits of wool dust swirling in the car, my husband suggested I might have to stop lest we get "lilac lung disease." So many good memories.

My own wedding had its share of drama. I won't relate it here, but if one of you has a copy of Packing for a Woman's Journey feel free to tell the story. Our anniversary is coming up and we'll celebrate this year with just a few of our nearest and dearest--including friends who were there on a tropical July day in Washington. I once heard that the British diplomats got special pay for enduring DC summers. I don't know whether it's true or not, but it can be very hot and humid, and it certainly was on our special day.

And so marriage is on my mind: Radiant brides, flowers in hand, aisles whether in churches or sylvan settings, adoring parents, the friends of a lifetime, grooms seemingly too young...happiness.

Above: Wedding Day, Daniel Bennett Schwartz, watercolor, 2010

The Book Tour Begins

2010-06-08T12:31:00.003-04:00

The first stop on my summer book tour is in Rochester, New York on June 15. First, I'll be happy to see my friend Karen and catch up. Then, after we have a chatty dinner, I hope to meet My First Best Friend fans at the Barnes & Noble at Pittsford Plaza. I'll be there from 7 to 9. Do come if you can, or get the word to family and friends in the area.

Karen, by the way, has a charming story in the book. It is about two little girls who play dolls together, but when you read between the lines--it's a lot more about the very basic nature of feeling that one belongs. Tune in at 7:15 to WHAM-TV the morning of June 15: I'll be talking to Mike on the morning show. Bet he'll ask me about Rochester's Karen.

Writing, as everyone knows, can be lonely. But when one has a finished book, it's getting out to meet "the folks" that provides a special thrill. After Rochester, I'm off to Minneapolis for a signing at The Galleria in Edina on June 23, then Ames, IA on June 26, and Des Moines, IA on June 27.

My friend Coleen says she's got quite a crew coming to the signing at the Barnes & Noble at Jordan Creek in West Des Moines. I'll take her at her word as Col comes from a large family and has five great kids of her own. Mike, the eldest, just left for a third tour in Iraq. Just before deployment, he married Katie, who is to be congratulated with a brand new law degree. I wasn't able to make the wedding, but I am looking forward to meeting Mike's bride. And speaking of weddings, Col is chronicled in my book Jenny Walton's Packing for a Woman's Journey. It's quite a tale of love on many levels. When I looked at the pictures of Mike and Katie on their happy day, I couldn't help seeing his beautiful mom in her ankle length dress carrying a bouquet of flowers touched with gold--brought from New York to Des Moines by friend and designer Suzy Taylor. (Suzy is the Suzy of The Kemplar Street Gang in MFBF.)

Yes, writing can be lonely. But fortunately, my writer's life has been populated with so many friends and familiar faces and stories. They have enriched my life and hopefully, through my writing, the lives of many others.

While on the road, I'll try to blog as much as possible. But at the very least, I'll save up tales for when I return. Hopefully, some of you will have your own when I come to your town. And I'd still like to get reviews of My First Best Friend here--or on Amazon or one of the other internet book sellers. It's good to know what reactions the book engenders.

Until then, Kitty Foyle will keep the home fires burning...

For more details on Nancy's book tour: http://myfirstbestfriend.com/events.html

My Year of Taking Tea--Alice's Party

2010-05-26T11:32:00.002-04:00

It is always a delight to talk to my friend Alice Watson Houston. When I heard her bright and lively voice on the phone recently, I knew I was in for a something special. Alice and I were part of a group of young editorial types who began our careers at American Heritage Publishing Company. We all had a marvelous mentor in Alvin Josephy. What luck to have had Alvin in our lives; and what luck to have a group of women whose respect for each other has grown over the years. Before Alvin's death, we would meet every May at his lovely home in Greenwich, Connecticut.

As an aside: I have a favorite house in America--Washington Irving's Sunnyside in Irvington, New York. And I have a favorite room in my heart and memory--Alvin's study, looking out on Bruce Park. It was a tumble of books and comfort for the soul of a writer. Alvin wrote many books in his long and productive life, but I think my favorite is his autobiography, A Walk Toward Oregon.

Alice is inviting Mary Jenkins and me to tea at The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York today. Because her husband, a well-known artist for Steuben Glass, contributed drawings to the museum, she has special dining room privileges. Alice travels from her 1700's home in Stonington, Connecticut, where this time of year her garden must be heaven. My own terrace is glorious rimmed in mountain laurel. (Our Iowa house has June about to bust out all over, too. After a really cold winter, it seems a miracle to walk on a velvet lawn beneath flowering crab apple trees.)

And so I am looking forward to Alice's tea party...and the talk of what we are all up to. I have two copies of My First Best Friend in my bag for two friends who, while not the very first, are very treasured work friends. Alice says tea will be her treat--Mary and I think it will be ours just all being together again, without pencils behind our ears. Work friends--would you like to honor one here?

News from Persephone Books...

2010-05-17T12:00:00.006-04:00

Just received The Persephone Biannually. What a cover! Titled Napping on the Best at Monte Carlo (1934), it brings me a picture of restfulness and also reminds me just how much the world has changed. Why do we love these kind of images? Imagine seeing women so clad on the beach today? They look like tourists who have delved into their steamer trunks for just the right outfits. Darling green and white sandals to match the shirt, the trim on the short sleeved cardigan, and the tidy scarf tied about her--nails painted bright red. But wait...we might not see this outfit seaside, but we certainly might in the pages of a catalog like Anthropologie and thus on a lass walking briskly about on her lunch break from her computer-driven job. Just how much do things change?

You may recall, we visited Persephone Books in my Journal back in March. At that time, I just had to purchase several of their vintage titles and my reward is this charming publication. Do go on their web site and check out their news and the recent Spring/Summer 2010 offering. I note that one of their shops, the one in Kensington, is closing. "Trying to compete against Amazon" is one of the reasons. Alas, online shopping is a wonderful service, and it keeps books circling the globe, but the loss of bookstores is a change that many of us lament. But just loving bookstores will not keep them in business, as the notice in The Biannually suggests. Their shop in London on Lamb's Conduit Street is still active, thank goodness.

One of the upcoming events is something we might choose to celebrate, too--a virtual celebration. On Monday, October 18, there will be a lunch and lecture at the Persephone store celebrating the publication, a hundred years ago on that day, of E. M. Forster's Howards End. For those of you in book clubs--what a great inspiration for an event. For shop owners of all kinds, you can plan something like this.

So here at the Journal, we'll be having a Howards End lunch and/or tea--more later as plans progress for menus, etc. You just might set your own table that day, read the book or revisit the film, which is one of my favorites.

Something to look forward to as spring drifts into summer and then fall is once again upon us. The seasons change, as times do, but there are things that never do--like good books, good taste, a restful day at the beach, and the best of friends, first or forevers.

Millbrook Book Festival

2010-05-12T10:40:00.008-04:00

Hope to see all of you who can get to the third annual Millbrook Book Festival in Millbrook, New York this coming Saturday, May 15.

I will be involved in a panel discussion called "Living and Decorating with the Things You Love" moderated by Barbra Milo Ohrbach (Dreaming of Florence)and featuring other design experts and fellow authors: Tricia Foley (At Home with Wedgewood), Linda Dannenberg (French Country Kitchens), and Mita Corsini Bland (Sister Parish Design).

Stop by and say hello. After the panel discussion, I will also be available to sign copies of My First Best Friend.

Hope to see you there!

To Dwell in Possibility

2010-05-11T11:13:00.005-04:00

The Emily Dickinson show at The New York Botanical Garden (picture above) brings to mind how devoted I was to Emily's poetry once upon a time. Like all passions, this one has faded a bit over the years. Now, I have a chance to renew an acquaintance with an old friend whose line about dwelling in possibility was my mantra for a long time. Lately, I have blended it with a spoonful of reality.

No, I have not become a cynic. I guess that is just not in my DNA. But when a few hopes and dreams hit a bumpy patch, don't we all step back a bit? For dear Emily, her possibility seems to have been in her garden and her garden of verse. "This is my letter to the world," writes Emily Dickinson, "who never wrote to me." And so, Emily Dickinson created her own world.

It might be considered either brave or cowardly when considering Emily's choices. She was a recluse from that world that wasn't communicating with her. But in her mind she explored places in the heart and left paths for us to follow and to help us understand our own way.

Do visit her garden at The Botantical Garden and the Emily Dickinson Museum in Amherst, MA (picture below). And delight in the Julie Harris performance of The Belle of Amherst available on DVD--a masterpiece. Does Emily have a place in your thoughts?

Happy Mother's Day

2010-05-09T10:22:00.003-04:00

There will be flowers and lunches out at lovely restaurants. Little ones will help Dad make breakfast and serve it to Mom--who only hopes the kitchen is not a destruction site. (Although she'd never say a word!) Honoring mothers...what a special idea.

Moms and those who do the work of moms are national treasures. For those of us who have offspring or who have adopted a young person to shepherd, it is a day we can stop for a second in this tumbling world and know that this is a moment to give thanks for the breath of fresh air in our lives. We can take our bows--and well we should. But on our way up our eyes settle on the face of the future. And we can thank them for giving us this happy day of days. Feet up, breakfast in bed, flowers on the table, WOW!

Jottings...

2010-05-05T11:34:00.002-04:00

On Sunday I pulled out my credit card to pay for a gift for Jorden. He's going on to the high school of his choice in New York City. And that's an accomplishment. The chap who "rang up" my sale, looked at me and said: "I have always regretted the demise of Victoria. It always made my day when it arrived." I was so pleasantly surprised that he would recognize my name and remember Victoria in such a nice way.

********

Having just received my incredibly beautiful note cards from Maria Thomas at Pendragon, I was taken aback by a recent article questioning why anyone writes thank you notes, anyhow. First, I have no objection to an email--and I send them myself all the time. But a handwritten note is still very appreciated. For those who do it, there's a certain satisfaction and a connection with one's own personal choices. Picking out the paper, selecting the card, taking pen in hand. For many of us it has its satisfactions. So sending the note is not only obligatory it's an act of enjoyment. I suppose they may go the way of bustles and buggies. But it's a personal choice, and why in the world does it have to get examined?

********

In the Style section of Sunday's New York Times, there is a front page story about the concern that professionals in child development are worrying about all the technical social networking that kids do now. Having just written a book like My First Best Friend, I rose from my seat and started communicating with several of the experts quoted in the article. I wanted to add my voice and my "study" of friendship. It was so obvious to me that all the stories in my book are examples of why forming buddies in early life is so important. Granted, my book is exclusively about women. But as I read the examples given in the the article, it seemed they were describing how girls connect and develop friendship. Men, after all, are always telling us how they envy the way we make and keep friends. Of course, many men have close friends--some from youth. I adored Bill Bryson's "The Life and Times of The Thunderbolt Kid." Our son read out large portions on a road trip a couple of years ago. Bill is from Des Moines, so we consider him of our our "Iowa clan."

Jeffery Palmer at the University of Alabama got right back to me--and I sent him off a book. I've always thought that this book, while a wonderful gift for friends, is also a study about a relationship that hasn't got attention in the "study" area. I hope Jeffery will be able to use it in his research and classes.

********

Dearest Isabel Keating, a lovely actress I got acquainted with when she played the role of Judy Garland in "The Boy from Oz" on Broadway a few seasons ago, sent me a much appreciated note. She's just received Leslie Caron's book, Thank Heaven. I'd sent it off for Christmas, but Isabel's schedule has been so hectic it was just unwrapped. During Isabel's Broadway run, I had dropped her a note about her performance and sent her Leslie's remembrances of Judy Garland, who was always kind to Leslie Caron in her early days in Hollywood. I thought it might help inform Isabel's performance. I never expected a friendship to begin. Now, my dream is to get the two together someday. They'd have the best time. Both are petite and full of life.

********

Responding about the Victoria book about French chic. I inquired and found out that the listing is in error as the book was never produced. A shame, because French chic is a yummy topic. But there are lots of places to indulge oneself on this subject and maybe some of you can help Valery find one.

********

Off on an afternoon walk with Janet and her dogs to the beautiful Halsey Pond. Enjoy your day doing something you love. Write a note, be chic, remember a friend, and put Spring in your step. nl

Loving Things...

2010-04-29T13:22:00.004-04:00

I have three books I'd like to discuss. I am always amazed at how the columnist David Brooks in The New York Times gets many of his columns. David reviews books. (I always smile thinking I am the only one on to him.) I don't use this device that often, but here are three books I'd like to talk about.

The first was a birthday gift this year: The Way we Live with Things We Love by Stafford Cliff and photographs by Cilles De Chabaneix, published by Rizzoli. You guessed it--it has a very European point of view. For those of us who adore beautifully composed photographs, this book is a delight. It is a feast for the eyes and not really meant to have you go to a local flea market and find exotic things to discretely place about your abode. I am especially intrigued by a chapter on antiques. The advice for the reader is to find the best use for your treasured possessions. I'm all for that--but few of us have grand headless statues and alcoves to put them it. I did enjoy seeing the wall of great family portraits, however--each in a similar frame and each with a printed scroll above it.

We can all find ideas any and everywhere, and there are ideas in this book. Take for example the daybed in a house in Budapest--the assortment of embroidered and printed fabric pillow sent me right to Pottery Barn to see if I could find ones like it! Of course they are there--not as marvelous as those in the book, but I suspect not as pricey either. Bless You PB.

The second book, I just received. It has the amazing title Living with What You Love. We all know you can't copyright the title of a book. (I could write Gone With the Wind and get away with it if I'd dare try) but I did do a double take. This book by Monica Rich Kosann, published by Clarkson Potter is definitely American. Like most American-style decorating books it is designed to instruct as well as inspire. The cover tells us that we are going to learn to decorate with family photos, cherished heirlooms, and collectibles. One lesson is called Have Fun With Your Clutter. To illustrate, a rather grand staircase wall is adorned with every family snapshot in the owner's archive--school moments, sports events, and a grandmother or two or three or four. (The staircase, by the way, was designed by Stanford White, one of America's great architects.) Create a Multidimensional Collage is another helpful hint. Basically, this means putting a lot of things on a small table in what you consider an artful way.

The reason I am pointing these things out is not to be critical--I know it may sound that way. After all, I edited a magazine and have produced books dealing with things in exactly the same way these two books are doing. And I'm sure there were readers who said, "You've got to be kidding." Now that I am on this side of the fence, I am at least opening up to the possibility that maybe we pay too much attention to our things--and maybe we love them too much, especially in publishing.

In that regard, you might want to pick up a fascinating little paperback by Richard Todd called,
The Thing Itself--On the Search for Authenticity. It got me thinking about things, especially after just having spend a week with Wendi photographing the things that I LOVE. On antiques, he writes: "Old things sustain me in a way I know not to be wholly rational."

Todd's thesis is way more complicated and I'll leave it to you to delve further if you wish--with compliments to David Brooks--but I think all of these books get us thinking about what we love and maybe more importantly, why we love them. I'm sure you'll find inspiration in both the picture books--and this afternoon take all your teacups and arrange them in some amazing way on that little round table in the library. But maybe we should all think about our loving of things rather than the love of things a bit more. I'm going to--how about you?

Second Mothers

2010-04-26T10:12:00.005-04:00

I am still thinking about the delightful time I had at Mendham Books in Mendham, New Jersey. First, it is always wonderful to actually meet with the people who buy your book. We were fortunate that day to have My First Best Friend sell so well. One person, whom I didn't get to meet, bought 25 books. Another had me sign 13 books she wanted to give to a group of 40-year-old friends celebrating 27 years together. Being part of of such a fun time made me very happy.

One of the gentleman who came with his wife and both their families reminded me again of how important mothers are in our lives--and not just our very own. His mother's first best friend was also his, he said. He could often talk to her about things that maybe he wouldn't bring up with his own mom. It was a special secret society. Another friend recently told me the same thing about his mom's FBF. "I'd stop by and see her often," he said. "And we talked about so many things."

My sister and I had a family friend, Julie, who was our "very own" keeper of secrets. Julie never had children of her own, so she "adopted" us. She was a part of our lives for a time. I used to walk our little Scottie dog to her house and sit in her immaculate white kitchen while she made wee mince pies. I got one right out of the oven. There always seemed to be some wonderment in that almost magic cottage.

A bonus in doing the research for My First Best Friend was hearing the heart-warming stories of love and attention from "second mothers." The "mom next door" was often an endearing presence, contributing in quiet and unseen ways. Just ask JoAnn, (page 92) who credits her FBF Bernadette's mother with being her role model for mothering her own three daughters. "She never raised her voice," JoAnn remembers. But it is far more than that; a little girl remembered of her little friend's mom--it was the open heart beyond the open door.

With Mother's Day approaching, share your stories of that second mother whose love enriched your life. I'm sure they will enrich us, too.

A rose by any name..

2010-04-24T08:36:00.006-04:00

My neighbor Janet, an art director herself, introduced me to the work of Karen O'Neil, an Ulster County, New York artist. Even though this time of year we all yearn to be outside with real flowers, I can't resist beautiful renderings. Karen seems to understand the soul of a rose in her paintings...and teacups. The nice thing about Karen's very professional work is that her fees are quite reasonable. Keeping fine art in reach is something I applaud.

Last week a lot of my possessions came into clear view again. How many things we have that we look over or around. One small treasure unearthed was a vintage copy of the poems of Robert Burns. There is no date on my volume, which is very fragile, so I assume quite ancient. The cover seems to have a print of roses applied over the binding. Burns wrote a lot more than the two songs that most of us recall.

What better love song can there be than My luve is like a red, red rose/That's newly sprung in June...? It's a statement of simple perfection. Burns wrote the poem in 1794, two years before his untimely death. Burns is beloved in his native Scotland, and around the world. Could there be a New Year's Eve without a rousing chorus of Auld Lang Syne? Graduations, around the corner, are also an occasion when we use this hymn to the memory of old times to commemorate the friends we are about to separate from. Written in 1788, it's just one of the many, many songs and poems in my book. It even has a section with the correspondence to and from Robert Burns. Thank you Hurst and Company Publishers, New York. I shall keep the book within reach now.

With a tip of a hat or bonnet to Burns, my mind wanders to The Bard who paid this tribute to the rose--lines written for Juliet:

What's in a name? That which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet.

Are there roses strewn in your path to share? A favorite rose poem or painting?

My Accumulated Life

2010-04-21T11:04:00.003-04:00

Last week the delightful and talented Wendi Schneider traveled from Denver with her magic camera to record moments in what I call "my accumulated life." We had four days of of putting together a variety of photographs of the things I love in my Hudson River digs. Ames, Iowa to follow...one of these days. Having two homes, at least, means dividing what you love around the country!

Try as I may not to, I am still acquiring--and yesterday's find can be almost as powerful as the ones you've grown accustomed to. One of the things that became apparent as Wendi delved into the cabinets and saw things perched on shelves that are so a part of the scenery I almost think of them as permanent fixtures is that many were gifts of one kind or another. I have been living with the love and largess of others--and how fortunate I have been to have people in my life who seem to know what makes my heart sing.

Amazingly, many friends over the years have said to me, "You're so hard to buy a gift for." With all the loot that Wendi and I photographed, I have to doubt this. Of course, my Victoria days did engender many lovely things that friends, colleagues, and associates have been gracious with. Take my crown collection, for example: I did not buy even one for myself. Over time, crowns, mostly pins, just keep finding a place in my "tower" of jewels. I, myself, find it refreshing when a friend has a signature piece--it makes gifting challenging. Is there a heart that Ann does not have? Is there one unique and will touch her own tender heart in a special way?

My friend Kim Shaver at Hooker Furniture has asked me to jot down some of the ways in which we live with the things we love for a project she is doing. Kim is a big believer in the idea that how we furnish our homes includes a large dollop of love--that when we invest in a piece of furniture it does more than occupy space and provide function. So, I'll be looking at my own accumulated life for Kim. And I'll have to give thanks to the legions who have helped me with gifts ranging from candlesticks to teapots to artworks to the books that have been written by the people in my life. I think of being especially fortunate to have bequests that make my homes
ever more meaningful--a gallery of generations who stitched and crafted leaving a legacy that means the world to me.

Whew...I was bit tuckered out after working with Wendi. And I know she was also--it's not only physical work but emotional, too, as one focuses on the true meaning behind our possessions. A tiny taste of Wendi's incredible work is pictured here. We both have a big job to narrow down the shots we want to keep--and then to decide if we have a book or other project on this subject of accumulation. We all live on our own stages--mine is filled to the brim with memories. Yours?

Victoria & Albert, Art & Love

2010-04-16T10:55:00.008-04:00

For those of us who continue our fascination with Queen Victoria and who have poured over every detail in the current film The Young Victoria, here is special treat: Victoria & Albert, Art & Love is currently on exhibit at The Queen's Gallery, Buckingham Palace. I almost hesitate to tell enthusiasts about this...we may want to lock up our family jewels, less we sacrifice them for some of the delicious objects for sale in the gallery's shop. So promise me, before you start to read this, that you will be prudent.

The exhibition focuses on the gifts that the loving couple gave to each other. It is no surprise to those of us who have poured over Victoria's journals and delighted in her watercolors of her children, that she had a taste for art. And also not a revelation that her dear Albert, always her muse, had a most sophisticated eye. With the magic of this wonderful instrument we write our emails on, you can see many of the items the two gave as tokens of affection to one another--and at the same time, they were supporting artists in all realms.

Birthdays and anniversaries were for Victoria and Albert, as they are for all us, the occasion to delight a recipient with the most personal and meaningful of gifts. For example, for his 24th birthday, Victoria presented Albert with a portrait of his favorite dog painted by a distinguished English artist of the time. And at the birth of each child, Albert gave Victoria a charm for her bracelet...nine charms in all, of course.

Prince Albert's brilliance and talents are properly displayed at The Queen's Gallery--and makes even sadder his untimely death at 42. Victoria mourned her Prince and the nation lost a man who might have done so much more.

PS - A catalog of the exhibit is available for order on Amazon, and The Young Victoria is also now available on DVD.

Artworks shown: Portrait by Franz Xaver Winterhalter commissioned by Queen Victoria for Albert on his birthday; Ceramic inkstand commissioned by Prince Albert; Archie and Annie MacDonald, watercolor by Queen Victoria; I know my position, Sir!, watercolor by Albert Edward, Prince of Wales, with Edward Corbould

A Challenge on Reading MY FIRST BEST FRIEND

2010-04-11T18:43:00.010-04:00

After reading your comments on the Journal these past months, I have a challenge for you wonderful writers, who are so perceptive and so articulate:

If you have read My First Best Friend, I would love for you to review it for me. Say how you really feel. (I may boohoo by myself but I will certainly appreciate all comments and take them as positive criticism.) What did you like most? What story really expressed the essence of women's friendships best for you? If you were recommending the book to a friend, what would you say to convince her? (Of course, these questions are just suggestions - don't limit yourself to these observations.)

If you haven't read the book, perhaps you'd like to comment on what kind of stories you'd like to read in such a book. Or perhaps comment on what such friendships have meant in your life.

And so, Dear Readers, I am anxious to read you.

Penny Martin--Gentlewoman

2010-04-05T16:59:00.002-04:00

Well, I have not seen this new publication, The Gentlewoman, coming out of England via a Dutch company. But I trust is will fulfill what it's editor wants it to do--a magazine that will show that women are interested in much more than just handbags.

I think Penny is a might hard on some of the current women's titles. They are interested in food, hair, beauty, home, and a variety of such topics. However, I think she hits the nail on the head with this observation:

Even in the 18th and 19th centuries, women were writing about travel and education and philosophy, and that's somehow disappeared. We have the opportunity to do these things...

Victoria magazine in my tenure did these things...but maybe not in the way Penny would do them. I often felt that there were canons to the right and left of us as we featured the beauty and dignity of women in all fields. If my memory serves me right, we even toyed with the idea of "Gentlewoman" as a title. But when we would use such a word...or heaven forbid, "lady like"...the earth shook. We were taking women back 50 years! I never thought so--I always thought it was taking women ahead to be as complete as they could be. One writer characterized Victoria as a needlepoint magazine. I was never against that beautiful art, but at the time, I don't think we'd ever done a story on it. But on women who were doing every art imaginable in new and creative ways, you bet.

Penny wants women to come away from The Gentlewoman saying that the women featured are great. That was always our goal--no matter what theater she chose to play in. Hurray for Penny beginning with her convictions. Penny is committed to redefining the term "gentlewoman" for the 21st century. However, I think she'll find that women of any time who are totally engaged in life are gentlewomen for all ages. Jane Austen, anyone? Ok, choir, sing if you like!

Easter Love

2010-03-31T12:53:00.010-04:00

I met the angel of my life at Easter time. A middle-aged woman came bearing the biggest chocolate bunny I had ever seen...and it was love at first sight. My father was to marry her daughter in early May and she came to meet my sister and me. From this moment on, she was to be my grandmother in every way, although I never called her so. Rather, we had names of endearment over the years.

That we met for the first time over something sweet and sentimental is most appropriate for how our relationship was to grow. I think of her every day because she is the inner voice of my life--the guiding spirit, the way an angel is supposed to be. Of course, she would just wave her hand at me at such a thought if I had expressed it to her. I was the youngest in the family and she the oldest, as she came to live with us after that May 4th marriage that brought me a new mother, who that day wore a lovely dress and beautiful corsage. We formed a conspiracy and a companionship that fitted us both like the white gloves she always made sure I had to wear on Easter.

I had lost a mother so very early in life to an illness that had lingered for almost all my young life. I not only lost a mother but the years that were too painful to remember. However, my memories of my grandmother and me have never faded because they were the years when she held my hand, and later when she was to take my arm. Our Easter love lasted a very long time--long after chocolate bunnies, cellophane wrapped baskets filled to the brim with jelly beans and all manner of treats, and outfits she sewed for me. We were life chums.

When I began Victoria magazine, I always said that it was for the women who loved their grandmothers as I did. And who would never forget the legacy of womanhood they gave them. It was much more than appreciation of a gracious time. It was a sense of what was beautiful in life--of what to hold on to that expresses the best we have to give. My angel gave me many gifts, but the gift of her unselfishness was truly the most important one. I paid homage to her by beginning a program at Victoria that honored women who practiced it in their lives. It was called A Star in Our Crown, named for the hymn she loved and the lesson she taught me--that when we do something for which we expect no reward, a star is placed in our crown.

My grandmother's crown was filled with stars for the kindnesses of my life. beginning with bringing a lonely child Easter love.

Resources - Cookies by Dancing Dear Baking Co. Painted wooden eggs and wooden bunny from Wisteria. Chocolates by Cibelli Chocolates.

In Martha's Corner

2010-03-23T12:05:00.001-04:00

When our family spent time--once upon a time--in England, our hosts had a young son who had to go to school while ours did not. In a note of indignation, this former American-as-apple pie boy announced with a bit of the Brit in his voice: "It's not fair." I'm always reminded of this
plea when I see something that doesn't seem quite cricket.

The latest book about Martha Stewart might cross the line from being not fair to downright mean-spirited. I am not going to defend Martha about what she does or does not do. But I am going to applaud her for her contributions to the American home. In that way, I am in her corner--one that is furnished with good taste that is affordable. Some of the merchandise designed in her K-mart days revolutionized the home furnishings industry. I am not as familiar with her current lines, but one can count on Martha to offer good choices at good prices.

When Martha entered the magazine field, we were competitors. But fair is fair and this new book doesn't seem so it me. I don't intend to plunk down my five cents for it, but I will save it for a the Martha product I might find to make my home and my life nicer. Because nice matters...in more ways than one.

"I often wonder where she is...

2010-03-19T11:47:00.003-04:00

When little first best friends get separated at 8 or 9, as one woman writes on the Facebook fan page for My First Best Friend, I suspect a tiny little hole is left in hearts. At the time, there are probably tears and promises to see each other soon, but new friends probably come to march in those familiar steps.

I am finding that as women respond to the book, there are several themes evolving--and this is certainly one of them. Every time I read such a comment, I want to wave a magic wand and
unite these two best friends and show shared moments no one else can claim. If My First Best Friend has the effect of uniting some of these old friends, it will make me so very happy--and be worth having begun this endeavor which seems to be taking on a life of its own.

Now, there are ways to find old friends, although with women and name changes it can be a challenge. I had considered putting a section in the book outlining ways to try and locate lost friends, but I was sure that as it went to print, there would be other and better search engines. I am no expert on this subject. But I entreat those who long to find that kid in braids you never saw again after one of you moved from "your world" to explore the current options.

Of course, we are always a bit wary. Have we grown so far apart we won't recognize each other? Will we talk about old times and have nothing else to say to each other? Would she like me now? With all these reasons not to pursue a reunion, there are many more that just may be worth the risk, as stories in My First Best Friend reveal. Disappointments may happen. But then, at least, you will no longer wonder. There is a time and a place for things in life, and going back isn't always the path best taken. But one can think of this as moving ahead, perhaps to knowing a grownup who just happens to remember you with braces.

My beloved Emily Dickinson talks about courage this way:

I took my power in my hand and went against the world.

It's a poet's way to summon up courage. Words to inspire?

The Winds of March...and April Showers

2010-03-17T16:45:00.005-04:00

Outside the window of my solarium is a glorious magnolia tree. I can look forward to it bursting forth with a profusion of pink each spring. It sits amidst a mini forest of pine trees. It's a valiant tree that is still standing, still proud, but not as resplendent. The storms we have had in the Northeast in the past few weeks have devastated many of our trees. Whole trees have been uprooted from the fierce winds that followed just a few weeks after a snow storm. It was that storm, leaving feet of heavy wet snow crushing branches, that has diminished my magnolia.

My friend and neighbor, Janet, and I cut some of the branches from the fallen limbs--and I have been trying to force the bulbs. I didn't realize how much water I had put in the metal container--so much that I couldn't lift it yesterday to get it near a sunny window on the first sunny day we've had in a spell. But with a little ingenuity, I did manage. And now the valiant bulbs are trying to bloom. They are further along than the tree. It's a rebirth after the storm that makes me happy to see. March winds bring April showers...

Speaking of which, I hear from my Rochester, NY friend, Karen, that she has found a fabulous site featuring gorgeous umbrellas: Umbrellas.net. Karen is not one to hold back enthusiasm, but I think you'll agree with her that these are special, and worthy of note and carrying to shed those April showers that are sure to come your way.

I have two big umbrellas--bought in France during my Victoria days--that are treasures. They came from the Cartier Foundation and I bought them from necessity when we were shooting at a story nearby. At Versailles' Little Hamlet we were deluged with rain, but we had to carry on, only having a few days to complete our story on toile jouy fabrics. These French blue umbrellas have a huge wing span. They will keep the rain off--but on a windy day you might just take flight trying to hang on to one of them! I held one over Toshi Otsuki as he and I both stood in water up to our knees. (Oh, the glamorous life of a magazine editor!) We positioned the models, as best we could, under eaves, etc. so they would be dry while we shot. Then, under the blue umbrellas, we all scurried to a dry place. One of the guards at the palace lent me his raincoat until he had to go back on duty. Bless the lad. These umbrellas as so ample, one could easily use them on the beach, but I would never want the color to fade. It is just my favorite azure shade.

This particular story has always been one of my favorites. Maybe because of the difficulty in the shoot, but more because we were able to share with our readers the history and development of a fabric we all know well, but do not know how it came into being. The scenes of toile come from artists' renditions of scenery in the area. They created romantic little tableaux from the bridges, rivers, trees, and streams around them. When we use a toile fabric, it has a very romantic history to bring with it. There is a lovely museum in Jouy-en-Josas, and they have published a glorious book, Toile de Jouy. When you peruse the fabrics or the incredible plates in this book, remember that these are real places with real inspirations.

This month, this March of fierce winds with the promise of spring, is the 250th anniversary of the printing of toile. It's as beautiful today as it always was.

New Notes

2010-03-12T12:26:00.005-05:00

Yesterday, I called Maria Thomas in a panic. "I am running out of my beautiful notecards," I exclaimed to her. There is no way I will be without them, as I have used them since early Victoria days. Maria began her calligraphy company Pendragon just minutes before the magazine began. (Again, my theory that elegance was in the air.) So, why am I surprised that Maria is doing new and exciting things? And while I leave in her perfectly graceful hands the style of the notecards (just as I did for many of the invitations to events hosted by the magazine) I was intrigued to hear of her new flourishes and even a new exciting and fulfilling adventure. How we grow is such a satisfying subject...

Of course the reason my notecards, each with an original flower, are flying off my desk is that I am including a personal word with each copy of My First Best Friend that I send out to friends. Over the years, the cards have made any gift ever more special. Maria's cards are so dignified, I have used them to pen an expression of sympathy. When you visit Pendragon, you'll understand why in nearly 25 years, I've been a devoted fan and client.

Perhaps the time I appreciated Maria's contribution most is when the magazine feted Lady Bird Johnson as "Star in Our Crown." (When asked, as I often am, what events were the most rewarding and memorable in my magazine career, without hesitation I respond, "Meeting Lady Bird Johnson.") Before the luncheon event in Austin, Texas (near the Johnson ranch) Claire Whitcomb and I, along with Toshi Otsuki, visited with her. "Do things that make your heart sing," the gracious First Lady told us as we walked along the river bank, admired the wildflowers she fought so valiantly to save for all of us to enjoy. I plan to share much more about this memorable time for me here shortly. But I wanted to recall Maria's work--first the invitation to the luncheon when Mrs. Johnson accepted our award and the then the booklet presented to each member of her family and the other guests who attended. It is just a superlative example of how we relied on Maria to make Victoria events unique.

Now to Maria Thomas's exciting new venture which she shares with her husband, Rick Roberts:It's called Zentangle, and Maria is so passionate about it I could hear the phone lines sizzling. Her skill is going beyond making people happy and appreciative to making them creative themselves. Zentangle is an involving experience and to do it justice, you should read more about it at their site. Maria and Rick are putting the power of line art into the hands of many through their kits and workshops. Maria sees this graphic experience as a new art, and I can't wait to try it. (I have a feeling that Zentangle kits may make their way into a few Christmas stockings.) How often do you get to share something new and exciting, especially from an old friend you've counted on to be a part of many, many moments of your life through the notecards she creates for you?

Bravo Maria--my line to many, many words and feelings.

Pearls

2010-03-04T12:44:00.005-05:00

My grandmother used to say that "pearls bring tears." I never thought much about it, but I recently looked up the legend that gives rise to the saying. I won't get into it here, but if you are interested, you can find it here.

I adore my pearls...the gifts my husband has given me over the years. But the very first real pearls I ever received came from Japan and from a naval officer who responded to my request for earrings. I still have them, although I almost always wear the Tiffany earrings my husband gave me a few years ago. For one special occasion, I asked for a single strand choker. If pearls bring tears, I rejoice in having tears of joy in my life.

What brings me to this topic is the response that I have been getting from readers of My First Best Friend. When one writes, one has only a glimmer of how the words will affect others. The same is true for many art forms. I just wept while watching the film Julie and Julia. Why, you ask? What was there about that film that prompted tears? When Julia receives the first copy of her Mastering the Art of French Cooking, I remembered getting my copy of that very same book when I was first married. The emotion, totally unexpected, just came over me. A gentleman leaving the theater with his wife asked me why I was crying. I launched into my story. "Do you still have the book," he inquired. More tears--"You bet I do and I even remember the stains on some of the pages!"

Hearing from several women in the book, and from a few readers, I realize there have been "pearls." That is, moments of remembering that have brought a flood of tears. One pearl I treasure is the report I got from my first best friend. The book is dedicated to her and it was sent as a present for her birthday this past weekend. (That was good timing, as the official publication date of the book is March 1.) The touching moment in my friend's experience was the fact that I had remembered her brother, in my words. Not have Robert as part of our childhood? Unthinkable.

I also want to respond to several comments here about the sadness that thinking back may bring. Again, I never wanted to make anyone sad. But it is, after all, unavoidable in any recounting of lives, isn't it? Difficult things happen; loss is almost unbearable. I never intended to inspire tears--but hopefully, in the main, they are jewels that honor precious memories. In the section of MFBF called Paths, I write this: "Not all first best friends are destined to travel along together." Friendships can be fragile and have their time and place. But that doesn't mean that the memories aren't pearls, even if they bring tears. Wear them proudly...for the friendship you had when learning how to love was so very important.

PS - Just in, this announcement featuring turquoise jewelry from Gumps in San Francisco. I love the beads...in a color very close to the cover of MY FIRST BEST FRIEND! (Turquoise is also my birthstone.)

Stories To Tell

2010-03-01T09:50:00.008-05:00

Several years ago, I was absolutely mesmerized by a show at the Dahesh Museum of Art. It was called Stories to Tell: Masterworks from the Kelly Collection of American Illustration. One of the reasons I was so enchanted was that some of the works were magazine illustrations, especially from the days when magazines published the work of many women writers. But even the advertisements from this period were something to sing about. And the covers of magazines like Redbook, Cosmopolitian, and Saturday Evening Post.

There is one illustrator whose work I am sure you will all recognize: Jessie Wilcox Smith. Aside from many familiar books, she produced nearly two hundred covers for Good Housekeeping magazine. During my days at the Hearst Corporation (the publisher of Good House, and Victoria as well) I saw many of her works. We always received the famous popover recipe of the Good House dining room with a Jessie Wilcox Smith illustration. One of my personal favorites is a mother buttoning a little girl's coat. But I also love "Mother's Morning" (1902) for Scribner's Magazine.

Photography replaced these marvelous illustrations; and the stories were fewer and fewer as magazines changed with changing times. But I am reminded of Stories to Tell because a friend just brought me back a catalog from Persephone Books, after visiting the shop in London and sending me these pictures.

This wonderful company has reproduced some of the charming fiction of the past and done it with the taste and sensitivity of the period. Some of the old illustrations accompany the tales like Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day, that was also a recent motion picture. I immediately ordered Good Food on the Aga, 1933, by Ambrose Heath for a friend who has a love-hate relationship with a newly installed Aga that was indeed a saga.

Persephone Books reprints neglected writings from the early to mid-twentieth century with patterned end papers that are appropriate to the time period. The company maintains a wonderful web site and you can purchase the books online, paying of course the postage from Great Britain. (Perhaps one can find their books here in the U.S.?)

Bravo and a tip of the hat to Persephone--seems like old times--"dinner dates and flowers."

The Writer Looks Back...

2010-02-23T12:55:00.004-05:00

For all of us who muster up the courage to put our thoughts on paper and who by some miracle get them turned into books, there is more than one moment of trepidation. First, our work goes into the hands of others--it leaves our own world, just like when our children leave our care and start to make their way without us.

I am having a little of this as my new book, My First Best Friend, is starting to be unpacked in book stores and is being put up on computer screens. When I first saw Victoria magazine come off the printing presses in the middle of the night, I could hardly breathe. Up to that point, it was in my backyard, now it was going out to the wide, wide world on its very own.

Of course, it is the heart and soul behind a creative endeavor that matters most. I have always felt that whatever I did, if I did it with the right motives and as best as I could, readers would understand if I made a misstep here and there. Will there be a comma out of place in My First Best Friend? Probably, although some very good copy editors worked to make the text "letter and punctuation" perfect, if there is such a thing. I've been in those chairs myself. No matter how sharp the pencil, perfection is near impossible. I like to think of how the Amish view the making of their quilts: They include a mistake to remind us all that only God is capable of perfection.

The perfection I do find in My First Best Friend is the pure and honest responses I got from women about this precious part of their growing up. I was asked to pick out some moments from the book--some "words of wisdom," so to speak--that summed up the more than 30 stories I had to tell. And so, I was looking back at the book and distilling something that I hadn't consciously done in the writing. Here are several that strike me now as almost having a life of their own:

What a silly thing to remember all these years, and what a blessing to have someone in your life who does.

We saw each other as a star....we each shined for the other.

The continuity in our lives...feels good. We will never be out of touch.

These times were life-altering for me.

Who else remembers?

Things small, personal, and heartfelt--the comfort of years and the blessings of friendship...for all the years.

These are just a few of the insights I have rediscovered as manuscript pages became a flesh and blood book. For those of you who have already read My First Best Friend or have your own inspiration to share, please do. You can go to the Notebook page on the official website and leave me a message, or you can share your memories here. I have discovered that despite common themes, at heart, each friendship story is like a snowflake; it is unique. Believe me, yours is, too. I hope that the book inspires you to look back and savor the glad times of childhood. Read and remember, as wise woman and Mitford author Jan Karon entreats us. While at the site, be sure to read Denise Di Novi's foreword to the book and a charming recollection of her friend, Kit. What a lovely story.

Harney & Sons

2010-02-18T18:09:00.008-05:00

On a snowy day, I took first one train, and then another, to travel to Harney & Sons in Connecticut. I have known John Harney for many years. As I was developing Victoria magazine, John was beginning Harney & Sons Fine Teas in a big way. We are talking about the mid-1980's when there seemed to be some kind of magic in the air for rediscovering the tastes and aesthetics of another time.

John Harney is as delightful as the tea he purveys. A firm handshake and a ready laugh are trademarks of the gentleman who is a wonderful blend himself. John is a passionate advocate for tea drinking as well as a very accomplished businessman with a Connecticut Yankee's good common sense. John and I greeted each other as the old compatriots we are in the belief that tea is more than just "a cuppa."

It was Trica Foley who reminded me of the author Edith Wharton"s comment about "the charms of tea." That was a perfect heading for the section that would be in issue after issue of Victoria. Many different topics were included over the years--and Harney & Sons was definitely one of them. In addition, John Harney was always willing to speak at Victoria teas and to do anything he could to help us promote the beauty and intimacy of drinking tea.

How very warm to be greeted by John at the door of his factory. It is an amazing place, as Harney & Sons has expanded to purveying over 300 teas that ship all over the world. Teas from Connecticut to Great Britain--John and I had both had to smile about that. But the Brits want the very best teas, and they can count on this master brewer for that to be sure. Today tea is 4 times the business it was in 1990, thanks to the John Harneys of the world.

John, and his son Michael have both been kind to Victoria and to me-- crediting us for helping them in the tea crusade. If so, from our early and consistent support, Harney & Sons have done just fine on their own. What a pleasure to see both of these men so proud of their product and accomplishment. John couldn't wait to show me the factory--after we all donned little white hair nets. It was like a Willie Wonka chocolate factory experience. Machines that you couldn't imagine how anyone dreamed them up to create packaging and packing. It was somewhat like visiting a vineyard-- interesting as Michael Harney came to tea after his experiences in France.

Walking along the aisles and aisles of boxes of tea, I realized how far we have come from the teas we used to have to choose from: English or Irish breakfast, and perhaps, Earl Grey. To help consumers understand all the teas, where they come from, and how to brew them, Michael has produced the Harney & Sons Guide to Tea. On it's pages you'll be introduced to white teas, for example. I brought home a tin of Chinese white tea with peach flavor. I have used it in the past, especially for summer iced tea. (By the way, John and Michael have recently begun bottling iced teas! I told you there was a smart businessman in John Harney...) There are also sections on black teas, yellow teas, etc.

Harney & Sons were the originators of sachets (a delicate fabric "tea bag"--a term I use reluctantly, as they are nothing like the paper bags we have become accustomed to recently). This afternoon, still under the Harney spell, I made a cup of their Paris tea with a sachet. Oh my, I am in love again.

While the Harneys are proud of sachets and the small round carry-along tins they developed so you can take a small sampling with you wherever you go, Michael does have this to say in the introduction of his book:

I will insist you set aside teabags and try a teapot and loose leaves.

Michael then goes on to give other very specific brewing advice, as he does for every tea he covers in the book. This is a tea bible you won't want to be without if you are serious about the subject. And tea for health is large part of the Harney mission as well as for the pure enjoyment of the experience. How lovely that one can have both in a ritual that is ageless.

Leaving the factory, John took me by his nearby tearoom complete with a tasting room, just like many a vineyard. The snow was getting fierce by now--but the room was warm and welcoming. I wish I could have stayed longer, but I had those two trains to catch. My bag was full of tea samples...teas I never could have dreamed of long ago when John Harney and I were younger and our passion for tea was just being fired. On their web site you can experience a world class tour of teas.

Harney & Sons is my February entry for my year of taking tea journal. How could John Harney not be part of this journey? This was not only an education day, but a reunion around tea. How many of those I have had, and how many more I hope to indulge in. I doubt I can sample all 300 Harney teas--but I'm sure going to take Michael's advice and stick my nose into the teapot to savor the aroma of all the beautifully blended flavors of those I do. For today, Ah Paris--a relaxing Earl Grey blend created for me by a master blender and friend.

Browsing...

2010-02-16T11:55:00.015-05:00

We all do so much online...are we missing the wondrous magic of browsing? On Sunday, I had some extra time to spend in a bookstore. The shop was small and jam-packed with enticing tables of books arranged by new fiction, old non-fiction, etc. All the cookbooks are together as are accessories such as journals and day books, which were on sale. After all, the year is getting to be two months down, so who would buy a day book? Shall I respond with a resounding, ME.

I know I will get wonderful comments telling me you discovered Paperblanks a long time ago. Oh, I wish I had because a lot of gifts would have been easier to find. I found slim volumes with the most beautiful reproductions of French silk patterns. Not only did I buy an almost out-of-date book, I bought several. The price was right and the quality of the product just captivated and amazed me.

When I worked on a furniture collection for Hooker Furniture, I gave all the people who worked with me on the project guest books. They were very nice, discrete leather-bound books. But Paperblanks gives you so much more in patterns and textures and many with pedigrees like Tiffany or William Morris. They will be my choice in the future. Unfortunately they don't sell online, but they do give a guide to finding a retail store in your area. I discovered there is one right next door to the hair salon I frequent.

When I started this blog, I wanted to pass along endeavors just like Paperblanks. It is obvious they have a point of view and a quality that is refreshing. And if you think they are a bit pricey, then do what I did, browse and you just might find a bargain.

I also found a book I couldn't resist. It's called The Cello Suites. I hadn't heard of it before, although it has won much acclaim. It's a mystery as well as a book for music lovers of Bach and Pablo Casals. Again, one of those things that make me realize there are still folks who do the heavy lifting so the rest of us can share some mighty impressive things. Once on a flight I sat next to Yo Yo Ma AND his cello--a fact I can't resist sharing.

Enter Roses..

2010-02-13T11:39:00.002-05:00

Every year, we at Victoria looked forward with great relish to the February issue. We just had so much fun finding stories as delicious as Valentine candy. And our pages were filled with roses, roses. Kim Freeman, who compiled many of our favorite things section, was given the assignment year after year to introduce readers to roses in yet another way. One of my last February issues, ironically enough, featured first roses in the Favorite Things section. Brides and babies were among the topics.

The other day I stopped at Dahlia flower market in Grand Central Station in New York and bought the whitest white roses I think I'd ever seen. The comments I got as I walked along with them brimming proudly out of my bag led me to believe that I wasn't the only one seduced by their unique beauty.

But Valentine's Day calls for red roses, doesn't it? The most spectacular ones I ever received had to do with Victoria being named Adweek's Magazine of the Year in 1990 (for 1989). They were long-stemmed and the bouquet so grand that I had trouble cradling it in my arms. (Well, I was a bit weak just coming off a bout of pneumonia. Getting the magazine to that point, only two years after our introduction, did take a bit of work and maybe I overdid it somewhat.) Just think: In 1989, Victoria not only went monthly, but we became the first magazine in the world to be done completely on computer. Just how brave were we?

Bryan McCay, our art director, was the guiding genius behind taking Victoria into the computer age. Bryan had been in the U.S. Air Force in Vietnam and I don't think he thought there was a task he, and we, couldn't tackle. You have to understand that this was not like going to buy a new stereo. Every single aspect of the process had to be customized to our operation--and there was no precedent. Looking back, I think Bryan should have been hugging those roses, and I smile when I think of our Bryan, a burly type with Scottish blood, in such a pose.

Interestingly, I just read somewhere that women prefer roses other than red ones--but men have consistently stuck to the notion that they indeed are the true expression of romance. In keeping with what "the guys" think, here is a bouquet for you--rendered by the artist Leon Belsky. He is represented by The Catto Gallery in London, and while I only rarely buy a painting from them, they send me the most marvelous catalogs of all their exhibitions. I have saved this one for an occasion like this: Happy Valentine's Day.

Playing with Pictures--The Art of Victorian Photocollage

2010-02-08T10:09:00.005-05:00

If you happen to be in New York between now and early May, you might find this exhibit a charming stop. If not, go to The Metropolitan Museum of Art's web site and see some very interesting examples of the work in the exhibit. There is also a catalog if you find yourself carried away with how aristocratic Victorian women were combining photographs and watercolors, long before 20th-century artists took up the medium.

There is a great deal of imagination displayed in images like a giant butterfly whose wings display small albumen silver prints of gentlemen. The watercolor work is vivid. The artist is Marie-Blanche-Hennelle Fournier (French 1831-1906). You might think of your own scrapbooking in a way. But for us photography is as ordinary as white bread. Not so for these women. This was a fascination with something new and obviously challenging.

My personal favorite is "Diamond Shape with Nine Studio Portraits of the Palmerston Family and a Painted Cherry Blossom Surround." It is the work of Frances Elizabeth, Viscountess Jocelyn (English 1820-1880). The portraits are Victorian--the costumes enchanting. However, the composition and the artful way the photographs combine with the artwork is a such a happy combination. Apparently, this was done for the Jocelyn family album.

As many of you know, Queen Victoria's own watercolors of her life, and especially of her children, are delightful and illustrate the fact that all upper class and royal women were instructed in the arts. The exhibition includes another royal, Alexandra, Princess of Wales (English b. Denmark, 1844-1925). The photographs are a tumble of life as lived in and around palaces. (Who can resist Victorian children?) The border is composed of painted ribbons. It just might give you an idea how to frame your own collage of photos of your family. Save those snippets of holiday ribbons and see where it takes you.

I never see things like this exhibit without trying to find a way to make my life and my work a little more interesting.

Enjoy the exhibit here, online at the Met, or in person if you happen to find yourself on Fifth Avenue. And how are you archiving your family's record? I know that cardboard boxes are passe and digital files are the way of the world. What would our Victorian ladies have done with this challenge?

A Promise Kept

2010-02-04T10:27:00.003-05:00

There is a kind of book that we at Victoria used to call Read with Tea. This phrase was originated by Michele Slung. I read a review that Michele wrote of a James Heriot book where she ended her comments about the English vet's animal stories with the phrase read with tea. I called our literary editor, Kitty Ross, into my office and asked her to contact Michele. I wanted her to bring this genre of book to our readers, with her special taste and take on a subject.

Kitty did find Michele and she began as a regular contributor to our pages. We even created a graphic to go with her columns. I read some pretty interesting stuff with my tea, thanks to Michele. And what's even more rewarding is that she and Kitty have become great friends. The three of us have had some delightful lunches over the years. And I had a dream of creating Read with Tea press featuring books that women would find, well, delicious.

Now to the subject of A Promise Kept: I told you that I'd read and review the new biographies of Louisa May Alcott and Lucy Maud Montgomery. Both are pretty heavy going, and I must admit that it took a certain amount of diligence to read them. What we love about their writing is the charm of girls growing up. Of course, not everything in the stories of Little Women and Anne of Green Gables is sweetness and light; but we delighted in their adventures while we held their travails close to our hearts.

When I wrote Jenny Walton's Packing for a Woman's Journey, I pledged to relate the best I had to give. If I have to sum up the lives of these writers, I would say that is exactly what they did. And I almost question why we want or need to know of Lucy Maud Montgomery's troubles with her son Chester, for example.

A friend and former colleague recently said something very interesting--that she doesn't enjoy reading about people's lives when so much of it centers about the difficult times. Rather, she said she wanted to know about and read about accomplishments--and how they were achieved.

I am not, however, discouraging you from reading these two biographies. The Montgomery book is incredibly well-researched and that in itself deserves attention. But these are not casual reads. They will enlighten you about women's lives at the time these women wrote and they will give you the seed bed of their fiction. But they are not read with tea books. They are reads to delve deeply into the creative process and to appreciate how creativity can rise above life's difficulties. For pure joy, I'd return to "the best they had to give"--the stories that helped raise us as women and kept us as girls returning to the library week after week to savor every word.

What is your favorite childhood book? Tell us why...

A Hint of Spring

2010-02-02T12:54:00.004-05:00

By the time January draws to a close in places where snow is lingering long, a hint of spring is welcome. If you'd like to indulge in an online experience, explore the Lexington Company site. This is a Swedish firm that has a love affair with American style. You might think Ralph Lauren with Northern Lights. They don't have any shops in the United States, but they do in the United Kingdom and several other countries.

It's refreshing to see how Americana is appreciated by folks who see us through their own lens. Their dining collection this spring features my favorite blue and white. While you can't buy the items here or even online from the United States, you can get plenty of decorating ideas to perk up your own home on this side of the Atlantic.

I just loved the baby things and the photography of children. It's very much like looking at a magazine with not only primary images but also intriguing details. Stay long enough to view the movie--and think of New England beach houses. Show me blue and white checks and you've won my heart. There's a fabulous men's scarf that I bet you can replicate somehow. It's not that we are trying to take anything away from Lexington Company's sales, but if we can't buy things, we can at least be inspired by them.

Catalogs and retailers are getting more and more magazine- and movie-like--something those of us who love magazines, for example, need to take note of. A stylist friend of mine mentioned recently that the catalogs had all the whistles and bells she used to bring to magazines. Visiting Lexington Company is certainly an experience. They made me want to bring a hyacinth home and look longingly at iced tea glasses. Are you finding ways to brighten winter days with thoughts of the spring to come?

For the Love of Fantasy

2010-01-30T12:28:00.007-05:00

What better time of year, as valentines are everywhere we look, to indulge in a little fantasy. Some readers of Victoria may remember an article back in 1991 about Debbie Schramer and her delightful fairy furniture. For the longest time, I kept a wee chair on the bookshelf behind my desk. If a fairy were to come to 224 West 57th Street, they would have had a welcome place to roost.I think a wide-eyed child visited one day, and the chair found a new home. It was very fragile, but I think anyone who would fall in love with it would take good care of its delicacy.

What a pleasure to hear from Debbie on this blog and know that she and Mike are still making little chairs like mine--and so much more. It was a special satisfaction to see how folks grew after they were featured in Victoria. Debbie started her magical enterprise the same year Victoria was launched in 1987, so the magazine was early to hop on her "tiny" bandwagon.

One can only marvel at the enchanted treehouse Debbie and Mike created for their recent film. Don't we all wish we could inhabit such a land for even an hour? You can visit the Schramers in fairyland on the film's web site. And another place I was enchanted by is their enterprise of making fairy furniture for children--with children having the satisfaction of creating something unique and endearing.

Valentines don't all have to be heart-shaped, they can come in a flight of fantasy like a fairy bed crafted of flowers, branches, and mosses. To say I love you with the work a person loves to do is
my idea of a delicious valentine. Again, thanks to Debbie for finding me again and sharing her art, her passion, and her dedication to the love of fantasy.

My Year of Taking Tea - January

2010-01-25T09:34:00.002-05:00

As I explore all the incredible experiences one can have over a cup of tea, I want to begin with an intimate experience I had yesterday. My niece visits, sometimes on command performances. In order to gain a bit of attention in her busy life, I find things she "needs" to do for me. I have found that asking, judiciously of course, for some attention is very satisfying to both parties.

Before we hit our market to shop, we stopped at my favorite diner in Westchester. I wrote about it briefly once in the Bliss section we created in Victoria. (Golly, I loved the freedom of those pages. I even thought that perhaps Victoria would spin off in that direction one day.) Back to the Dobbs Diner: My family has been going there for years. My husband and son are in our Iowa digs at the moment--so keeping up a ritual, my niece and I went and had lunch graciously served to us by Gus.

She said she had a story to tell me, so we settled back over our tea. (The brew is often a blessing for conversation, isn't it?) Recently, my niece drove to Baltimore on business. On the way back, she stopped for gas and tea at a rest stop along the way. Traveling on to the toll booth, some miles ahead, she realized that she had lost her wallet--leaving her with no cash to pay the toll.
Turning around, she hastened back to where she had recently stopped.

My eyes started to glaze over, as I have looked for a lost wallet with this lass several times over the years, including a recent excursion at Iowa State University in Ames, just before Thanksgiving. The campus was practically empty and the dropped wallet was sitting politely by the curb, just as it had fallen. Was there money in this lost wallet, I asked. Six hundred dollars was the reply.

Getting out of her car at the most recent stop, she looked around where she had parked, thinking she might have dropped the wallet getting into the car. While she was searching, a young man approached her and asked if she were looking for a wallet. Astonished, she replied that she was. He had noticed it, and suspected that when the person who lost it got to the toll booth, a return trip would be made to the rest stop. So he was waiting for her. Our tea was steaming, but it was the tears in her eyes that accounted for the mist in the air.

She talked to the young man and found that he had just lost his job and was returning home to live with his parents. Parents who should be justly proud of an intelligent and honest son. Perhaps that wallet has some kind of magic--always returning to its owner.

A story over tea--amazing and sweet. One that affirms that most people are good. One never knows what amazing things one will hear over tea. Do you have a teatime story to share?

Personal Hugs

2010-01-18T21:48:00.002-05:00

It is an honor to receive and share the intimate stories of family and friendship that the journal has been receiving lately. I would like to personally hug each of you. So consider it done. I am not a person who hugs easily, although it is getting easier. I do "tear up" more than I used to.

I always remember my grandmother wiping her pretty blue eyes behind her thick square glasses (childhood measles had weakened her eyes) and being puzzled by it. I think it's one of the things that years gives us the privilege of doing. And so here with Kitty Foyle so perfectly resting next to me, I can have my own "hanky" moment. She doesn't mind a bit.

Let me share a "hug" time with you. The woman was beautiful--well-dressed and composed. I met her at Victoria event. I think we were in a shopping center. I was a bit startled when she took me in her arms. When she drew back, she said: "Victoria helped me get through....." I will not tell you the intimate story she revealed, but it made my world go black that moment. And so we hugged again and I told her that if any small way we had been there for her it was almost beyond my ability to comprehend. What I have loved about the comments here, have been the sharing of happy times, friendships old and new, and reunions. My hug has stayed in mind forever as a reminder that we can do things, acts of kindness, and not realize the impact they have. It's such a good reason for keeping our compasses due north.

My year of taking tea is about to begin. I will be sharing with you a monthly experience that has something to do with tea. I hope to enlighten and surprise you--and have a jolly good time along the way. Putting tea on the dinner table was my job as a little girl. We had a steaming pot every night--with whole cloves, I might add. And I've been a devotee ever since. Will look forward to us taking tea together.

The Best List Part V

2010-01-14T10:22:00.003-05:00

Meetings, greetings, and reunions--there were happy times for me in 2009. With another holiday season just past, I'm still thinking about the greetings from friends I don't see very often--some not for years and years. I know Christmas letters sometimes get a bad rap, and indeed some can be kind of silly. But I love the ones with pictures of kids, grandkids, and yes, cats and dogs. And even if folks are in my life on a fairly regular basis, I like to get that photo taken on the Colorado summer vacation or the hiking trip in the mountains with everybody all smiles. "Gee, I wish I were there," I often say to myself.

Every New Year's Eve day, our family gets together with dear friends. It's been a tradition that has gone on for many years. My friend Dottie was one of the first people to welcome our son to the world, flowers in hand and a broad smile. Her son was one of our boy's first baby sitters.
We've got a lot of history going--and we just enjoyed a lunch launching a new year. Eyes are weaker, bones a little creaky, but our hearts are still young and happy. Dottie's husband was a career naval officer and he and my husband, a navy man too, just revel in remembering the time they spent together in the service. It's a meeting I adored this year and consider it a blessing, too.

Just before Thanksgiving, I had two wonderful reunions. I met a former boss for lunch in a restaurant in Iowa where a charming chap gently played some old favorite songs on the piano in the window. We hadn't had such a meeting in a long time, and while short, it was very pleasant, indeed. I told stories he said he didn't believe: "Why that never happened, Nancy," he exclaimed over a hilarious incident when he had to be boss. It also amazes me what one person remembers about a relationship--and the other doesn't.

"My Mike is getting married in April and he wants you to come," said the voice on the phone. Mike, getting married? These things creep up on us don't they? Well, I know that this young man has just spent several tours in Iraq and is no longer the lad who played with my son's saxophone when he visited. His mom worked in my department at Better Homes and was always special. We have kept up with each other--but several years have gone by since we'd spent time together. Thanks to Mike, we made a point of it and had a long lunch at our dining table. ("You still have these blue sofas," Col remarked, as if it was a comfort to her.) Again, 2009 had this reunion in store for me--and there's a wedding to look forward to while I remember his mother's as if it were yesterday.

This is the last of my Best Lists. I hope you keep up the chatter on this subject...we'd all enjoy knowing the things that bring good cheer every year.

The Best List Part IV

2010-01-12T09:46:00.004-05:00

Some of us take great satisfaction in the work we have done; and I would be among them. But I had no idea when I started this blog that I would bring back together a community who loved Victoria as much as I did. All over again this past year, I have felt that rare flush of joy when one of you remembered, so kindly, what the staff of the magazine, begun in 1987, has meant to you.

Just after leaving Victoria, I asked a dear old friend, and a venerable man in publishing: Just how was it that the readers of the magazine found it so intimate and inspiring? (And of course, one has to know that not everyone loved Victoria.) He looked at me across a lunch table and said: "Nancy, these readers believe that you know and understand them. They think of you as a friend because of that." He was right that I and the staff had a special connection to our readers. I believe it was in part because we all started out together with hearts and minds in the same place.

I have quoted dozens and dozens of times a letter I received with the publication of the first issue. I know it by heart:
Dear Gentle People, How did you know?

That was the extent of the letter, but there was no reason to say more. Yes, I did know that reader. I know that she wanted grace and beauty in her life and she wanted to taste the richness of women's achievements in all the areas of life that many of us had overlooked as being "women's stuff." The world was forgetting the quiet pleasure of polishing a silver spoon and perhaps writing a note on paper you shopped for all afternoon.

The publishing world never seemed to completely understand the people who made the first issue of Victoria a newsstand sellout. I think I can tell a little secret here that I don't often share: Some of the folks on the business side of the magazine had prepared their reasons why the magazine hadn't worked to clients who advertised in that early issue. Of course, that was a prudent thing to have done. But luckily, it wasn't necessary. The first issue was a newsstand sellout and the rest is history for me until that day in 2000 when I gracefully made an exit.

It wasn't that I no longer cared. It was that I thought my work was done--and like Queen Victoria, I had done it well. (That is what the crowds in London shouted at her as she rode in her carriage on one one of her last trips through the streets.) I have taken great satisfaction in the work I have done--and I have delight in the people I did it with. It has been even more of a "best" to read here how much it has meant to some of you. Naturally, not everyone who reads this blog is a Victoria person; but it seems many of you are.

Thank you for making my 2009 special, and I hope that while you continue to enjoy the past, we all come along to find the new and the enduring. It was Lillian Hellman who reminded us not to love the past better than the present. And now we are in a new year and on a new journey. I have plans and I'd love to hear some of yours...

The Best List Part III

2010-01-08T14:51:00.002-05:00

For much of 2009, I was involved in talking to women about friendship. I heard many heart-warming stories. Some produced enormous surprise; many were the comforting and reassuring memories of how we connect as little girls.

Like the snowflakes flurrying about me, no two stories were alike. I had selected the topic after finding my own first pal. We had been separated for years and years. It would have been wonderful to have shared our lives all these years--but we are overjoyed at reconnecting. There was so much to get caught up on. It was just mind-bending. It was gratifying to tell our story in the book, My First Best Friend.

"Can it be," I asked myself, "that no one has ever done such a book before?" Yes, there have been books about women's friendships--and very good and inspiring ones. But no one had focused on that "first." I heard so many more stories than I was able to put into the book. I was pleased with how many women gave of their time and their precious memories--wanting to let the world know just how much that special friend meant and still does, so often.

Early on in the blog, I shared the cover. Well, that was then. One fine day, I was presented with an even better one, I believe, which is displayed here. What I like most are the pictures of the little pals. I adore how we held our hands before the camera, and how even in old photos love shines through.

There are several reasons why I pick My First Best Friend as being a best of 2009. First, accomplishing something as worthy as I believe this to be is always a moment of intense satisfaction. Second, it was a privilege to be invited into intimate worlds with such generosity of spirit. And third, I am able to share with readers something that is honest and pure.

I am not going to ask you to share your first best friend story now, as I have plans to do that at a future date on a web site for the book (a project for 2010). But I do hope you take this opportunity to embrace such a friend. It might be your sister's friend, or even your mom's, that "auntie" who loved you a bunch, too. But I hope that I can count on your to become ambassadors of "first best friends"--and make this wonderful relationship a best of many years to come.

The Best List Part II

2010-01-06T11:29:00.003-05:00

Last year at this time, it would have been a huge stretch of imagination to think that my dear friend Janet would be my upstairs neighbor. Janet was part of the creative staff in our art department at Victoria. She worked three days a week and I always looked forward to those days. It was my habit to check in the art department first thing after arriving at the office. It was the place where there was most early day activity. When Janet was there, it was an even happier place.

As it happened in 2009, Janet's husband changed positions and they were looking for a new abode in my neck of the woods. Of course, I suggested that they look in my building. The chances of them settling here even then seemed quite remote. However, to sweeten the possibilities, I introduced Janet to my favorite real estate agent, Laureen Paul. With the patience of Job, Laureen worked to find the right place for them and their two beloved dogs, Dixie and Willy. The latter not being lap dogs at all, but nice big hefty ones.

I never tried to influence Janet, other than to tell her how much we loved living on the Hudson River when in residence in New York. When we are in Ames, it's a nice walk to the banks of the Skunk River, but even Iowa proud folks can't compare it to the mighty Hudson. This summer was the 400th anniversary of the discovery of the river and it didn't hurt to have boats from around the world and a replica of Henry Hudson's own ship, The Half Moon, often drifting graceful by our building. Additionally, we have "our own" train station at the foot of our building with "our own" post office in the 19th-century station. A few years ago we were able to go from the building directly to the train platforms. Now, we have to take an extra step or two, but it is still mighty convenient. One can leave our station and be in midtown Manhattan in 35 minutes. We have even taken the train north, and with one transfer gone all the way to Canada.

My new neighbor Janet and I call ourselves "Ethel and Lucy" because of our madcap adventures--like getting lost in the parking garage at the Westchester Mall this holiday season. We were laden with shopping bags...and Janet even had a small tree! I guess we had some explaining to do to our husbands who couldn't understand how we managed it. It is truly the best to have Janet so close, even though she still does spend time in her country house. It's like the magazine days; I look forward to the time she's here. I'm more content knowing that upstairs is a bright, funny, talented and beloved friend ready to lend a hand or a pinch of nutmeg! And my Kitty Foyle has tender, loving care when I'm away. It's just the best! And now it's your turn to share a best with a friend from 2009....

My Best List

2010-01-04T16:21:00.004-05:00

It's the time of year when we reflect on the past, and hopefully build on the best. I started thinking about what my Best List of 2009 would contain. I had some lovely times and several delightful reunions, but at the top of my best list has to be a spring day in Rhode Island, when I was able to share some of the research on my new book project with the family of the Civil War soldier whose letters I have. To protect their privacy, I won't use real names of the current descendants.

My husband and I were fortunate to share a 100th birthday in the process of our visit. That alone was worth the trip. Assembled were the great-grandchildren of Julian W. Merrill and Matilda Caroline Morgan Merrill. They had one daughter, Georgianna. The folk gathered in a sun-drenched living room were her grandchildren. Unfortunately, they knew very little of her because of her early death when their father was just a toddler. When a new mother came into the family, Georgianna's memory dimmed over the years. Matilda did live many years beyond her daughter, but the family ties seem mysteriously to have vanished.

I shared Julian's letters--the writings home of a young man involved in a brutal war that shaped his future life. A wonderful historian had prepared a CD of them--a miracle in itself. And from that same source, there is a reprint of a book Julian wrote in support of the building of a monument to the men of his unit who served and who perished in the Civil War. The monument still exists, as does the book, published in 1870. Julian and Matilda had exciting lives in many ways--and I was able to recount them as they revolved around Matilda's father, and Julian's benefactor, Nathan Denison Morgan. What became clear was that while the Morgans had a fascinating historical footprint, it was the story of family discovered and rediscovered that was the most exciting and rewarding.

We tarried into the afternoon, had pie and refreshments. As we left, I stopped to admire the tidy garden kept by a tall and graceful man who walked with us to our car, thanking us for the day we had all had together. A best of 2009, or any year, to be sure. What tops your best list?

Merry Christmas

2009-12-24T12:27:00.006-05:00

My Dear Friends,

Blessings to you all for a holiday full of good cheer and good will. Christmases past inform us, Christmases present bring us joy, and Christmases future, hope. It is the spirit of the season we honor by keeping Christmas in our hearts every day of the year. And in the words of Tiny Tim: God Bless Us Every One.

I will be back online in January with my winter journal. I have stored up some lovely things to share with you...

With fond thoughts,

Nancy

The Lights of Christmas

2009-12-17T13:58:00.004-05:00

Don't we all just adore the way our towns and cities glisten with Christmas lights? It's almost as if the stars have descended on us this time of year. How is it that such a twinkling landscape elevates our spirits? And so it is all over the world where the season to be jolly is celebrated.

In New York, thousands marvel at the tree in Rockefeller Center every year. Once I was on a Fifth Avenue bus at dusk and the thoughtful driver proudly slowed down so we could all enjoy the site from the warmth of our seats. The lights had certainly charmed him. In Montreal one year, I marveled at the enormous illuminated wreath on one of the bank buildings. I think it might just take the prize for a decoration of its kind. You can see the wreath and the Noel Bleu display in this delightful video.

I have always felt special being invited to The Tavern on the Green in Central Park during the holidays for their festival of lights, inside and out--an attraction all year long. But at Christmas it seems even more spectacular. All the surrounding trees are outlined in clear lights. I don't know what the future of these displays will be, but The Tavern as we know it will close at the end of this holiday season. Lights will go out in many hearts who have celebrated special occasions beneath the cascade of chandeliers. Things do change, but this is one that many New Yorkers and tourists to the city will lament. But I thank The Tavern here for many happy times. It was like being in a fairy palace at twilight.

But when it come to Christmas lights, it's the ones on our own trees we come to love the most, don't you think? Hitting that switch for the first time is as meaningful to each of us as the tree lightings that go on into town squares all over the country. Think of our forebears putting candles on trees and lighting each one. It's as good a metaphor as any of how time really changes us. One year, when I was editor of Victoria, we were invited to share Christmas with Tasha Tudor. That lady who loved living with the grace of the past had lit candles on her tree--a challenge for our photographer Toshi to capture. (I believe there was a pail of water nearby.) I always remember a phone call from the staff at that session and am still amused that assembled at Tasha Tudor's were Tova, Toshi, and Tricia. When my husband heard me reciting this, he thought his ears were deceiving him. I can say that the results suited our readers to a "T."

One of my favorite Christmas poems is from Christina Rossetti. These lines light my heart:

Love came down at Christmas... Star and angels gave the sign.

We can hope that each light on our horizons is a sign of love. Lights you love? Tell us about them.

Jane Austen Fans--A Holiday Gift

2009-12-15T11:28:00.005-05:00

On a bitter cold day, I walked from Grand Central down Madison Avenue to The Morgan Library & Museum. I used to live in the neighborhood and would visit The Morgan on a routine basis. It is a marvelous place and I am especially drawn to it these days as The Morgan family figures prominently in the research that I am doing for a new project, hopefully to be a book.

Three Morgan brothers came from Wales in the 17th century--Miles, James, and John. The first two settled in Connecticut and their families are quite extraordinary. Of course, one of Miles's descendants, John Pierpont Morgan, is the most remembered. It is his fortune and imagination that has given us The Library. It is the descendants of James that I am most involved with--they were the men who brought us our insurance industry during the Gilded Age.

On this cold December day, I met my dear friend, Margaret (affectionately called "Tuny") at The Morgan for tea and then a delicious tour of the discrete Jane Austen exhibit. This event was our Christmas gift to each other. We decided a few years ago that to spend time with each other doing things we love was the best way of gifting for us. Tuny traveled down from Boston this year; I have made the reverse commute in times past.

You can go online to see many of the items in the exhibit (what a joy!) and there is also a film online you can spend a few minutes with. I didn't love the film because the people they asked to comment on Austen seemed a bit out of character to me, with several exceptions. But all of them reminded us again and again why we love Jane Austen so much. If I had to sum, I think it would be that she was able to see and understand the drop of water in the ocean. She dealt with a world close at hand, but it reflected the whole wide world in an incredible way that has never gone out of style. Times change--human hearts don't seem to. (Foolish people remain so, too.)

I was also intrigued by her letters--written both vertically and horizontally. I struggled with this practice in the Civil War letters I have been working with. Paper was precious in both these time periods. And I almost want to write all my own correspondence with brown ink on cream paper--so lovely. Of course, I do not have that restrained penmanship that makes Jane Austen's writing so appealing. I suspect if she wrote a laundry list we would all be in awe.

So, it's a gift to view the exhibit--and if you plan to go, do the homework on the site first. It will be so much more informative and thus enjoyable.

For a lovely biography of Jane Austen, I recommend Carol Shields Jane Austen: a Life. We lost Carol's voice far too early, but her writing is not unlike Austen's in the sense of her delft touch. She must have really enjoyed doing this book. I gave this as a Christmas gift to another friend a few years ago.

Tuny hurried off in a cab to escape the wind, and I wandered back toward the train station, still basking in the wit and wisdom of Jane Austen.

The Material of Giving

2009-12-07T09:56:00.003-05:00

'Tis the Season for Luxury. Oh yes, in yesterday's The New York Times T Magazine, the editors suggest a bit of lace. I think it is absolutely incredible--a museum piece--the dress they show. However, it's $16,000+ price tag did take me back more than a bit. Imagine all the bits of lace one can give for Christmas for that price. Might one get a lace car, for example?

And then there was the plain sweater, a straight knit affair that we who can make needles sing might whip off in a couple of days with maybe $100 of the best yarn we can find. Well, you can buy the sweater shown for a mere $1,600. I do believe that there is something to see the best in design and materials. And for those of you who can afford such price tags, perhaps it's just fine to indulge and keep the high-enders in business so they may continue to be an inspiration to the rest of us. It's an age-old dilemma. Must admit I almost ran to the needles--but I have a cardinal rule which I learned from an old Cathy cartoon strip: Never start knitting the first week of December! Bless that girl.

So, it's also the season to access our luxuries. Is there a bit of lace to add to a lovely wool or silk scarf, even one you might be passing along? Is there a bit of treasure in the china or linen closet that will bring tears of joy to a friend or family member? Is there an ornament that you probably wouldn't buy for your own tree, but will make a friend smile when they hang it on their own year after year, thinking of you? This year, I am giving my friend Lisa a wedding cake ornament that I just couldn't resist. She was married earlier this year. It is absolutely lovely, handmade, and was a bit expensive.

Far be it for me to suppress the spirit of giving. I'm just thinking of all the very personal ways we can gift. Let me tell you about one such present I received a few years ago: When I was in Copenhagen with my family--our son was on business--I visited the writer Karen Blixen's house on the sea. It was a short train ride from the center of the city. Karen Blixen is more commonly known as the writer Isak Dinesen, who gave us the incomparable Out of Africa. (Her life was the basis for the Meryl Streep film.) I was amazed at the art gallery at the house, works by Dinesen when she was struggling to become an artist. I fell in love with her work and snapped up a bunch of postcards depicting it which I sent from the hotel the next day. This was in the summer. That Christmas, one of my long-time neighbors presented me with a little music box. I recognized the image on the top and it puzzled me for a minute. Was this not one of Dinesen's paintings? Indeed it was. As the events started coming together in my mind, I turned the box over and found the postage stamp that had been on postcard. Later I found out that, my friend had found an old music box at a sale that just fit the post card. She assembled the gift that is one of the most precious and thoughtful I have ever received.

Do you have a gift of hand and heart you'd like to share with us?

You Are There--Leslie Caron in New York

2009-12-02T20:08:00.003-05:00

Last night hundreds of fans lined up to buy Thank Heaven, Leslie Caron's autobiography, and to hear an interview with her.

What did she wear? A lovely long herringbone brown-gray jacket with a matching skirt. Her blouse was a brown satin and she wore knee-high black boots with an elegant shine. The show stopper was a large brooch--a spray of stones in shades of pink. To sum: She looked terrific, like a movie star should, and her fans were not disappointed.

The room at Barnes & Noble on Broadway in New York was filled to capacity with standing room outside the doors. Even folks who had purchased books were not able to get into the room. New York obviously loves Leslie Caron. And no one was disappointed with her comments about her life and work. I think hearing about her first screen kiss from Gene Kelly might have been a highlight of the night. She was very young and had been asked to do a screen test with him. "He knew I could dance, he had seen me in the ballet, but he wanted to know how I would handle the scene." Obviously, she did very well because she got the part in An American in Paris. (By the way--both Gigi and An American in Paris have been recently re-released on DVD with commentary by Leslie. Very informative and inside stuff.)

It was also an inspiring note when she admitted that she had eliminated negative comments about people who might have earned such distinction in the book. She felt in writing that nothing would be achieved by settling old scores and with time most things had worked out well. Not dwelling in negativity is a hallmark of this book. However, if ones reads between the lines, there is a truth that can't be denied.

Of course, the fans who showed up--one gentleman had traveled all the way from Washington, DC for the event--are just the tip of the iceberg. I hope Madame Caron takes a great deal of heart in how much joy she has brought for so many years.

She continues her journey on stage and screen in February when she will be in a French production of A Little Night Music. If I could wiggle my nose to get to Paris, I'd be there for one of the six performances. Kristin Scott Thomas will also be in the production.

I feel very honored to be acknowledged in Leslie's book and to have had a seat at last night's event. It was very special to me. My only regret--I wish we'd more personal time for "girl talk" or to shop. Perhaps next time she comes to New York. She's a very busy lady on this trip and the show must go on--as it does to California where, among other things, she'll get a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame--next to Gene Kelly. I'm sure it will make her very happy, as does the enthusiastic reception of her book.

A sad note: She has closed the Auberge in France. Economic conditions forced the decision as American travelers have cut way back. But I also suspect that it was a very demanding for her. It's for sale, as she informed us last night.

A charming note: There are to be Leslie Caron paper dolls in 2010. For aspiring ballerinas, a must gift.

Thank Heaven...

2009-11-30T10:39:00.004-05:00

Leslie Caron has written an enchanting autobiography appropriately titled, Thank Heaven. I am proud to call this lovely woman of film and stage a friend of many years. We met when she portrayed Colette for us in the pages of Victoria, and then later when she performed a dramatic reading of Colette's work in New York. It was to sell out crowds in all of her performances, several for French speaking students.

On December 1, Madame Caron will be signing her book at Barnes and Noble's Lincoln Triangle Store on Broadway at 7:30. She will also be in Philadelphia on Wednesday, December 2 at the Free Library of Philadelphia and on December 4 at All Saints Church in Pasadena, California.

I hope some of you are in areas where you can come out and hear the interviews she will be giving. I'm sure some will be in the media as well. Hers is an inspiring story in many ways. As she looks back at her life, she, like many of us, finds the moments that were highs and lows, and comes to a place in her life where she has resolved old issues. Thank Heaven she has written this book. (Of course, the title comes from a song in her famous film role of Gigi.)

Family Recipes

2009-11-23T19:23:00.004-05:00

The best way I could think of to share Thanksgiving with you is by sharing a family recipe. My husband's Aunt Mary passed it along over the years. But it was his sister, Ann Burckhardt, who brought it up to date for us. She's great at that. Her last book, which was considered one of the best cookbooks of that year by The New York Times, revisited all the standard hot dishes and made them work in today's kitchens with the best ingredients. It's called Hot Dish Heaven, published by the Minnesota Historical Society. Ann's been a kind of food detective in Minnesota, bringing back many of the grand old favorites.

This year, we finally decided to give up on the baked mushrooms we've considered a holiday standard. We forgot to bring the recipe west with us and neither of us could remember it exactly. Additionally, I'd noticed that the past few years guests just weren't thrilled with it. We're trying a new vegetable dish instead. But we're going to try it out before it makes its way to our Thanksgiving table. It's always a good plan.

A few years ago, The New York Times printed a letter I wrote about Thanksgiving and the joy of sharing it with others. It was in response to an article about how annoying it was to have "orphan" guests. I guess the author of the article had a poor experience. My experience has always been just the opposite. And in New York, there were always people who couldn't get home to be with their own families. These guests made us even more thankful that we could share what we had with them. Having them grace a seat at the table was a precious tradition. That's a recipe for a Happy Thanksgiving.

Images to Make One "Happy"

2009-11-18T14:38:00.010-05:00

In a previous entry, I mentioned my friend, Suzy Taylor. Suzy has been a friend and associate since she decorated my son's seventh birthday. (He's a bit older now.) It was a favor to me because Suzy is and was a recognized product designer, artist, and interior designer. I still have a coffee table she designed. Even she hasn't hung on to the design--but I have. It has several different positions, although I usually keep it at dining table height--perfect for afternoon tea.

Several years ago, Suzy moved to an exotic town in Mexico, and has just recently launched a wonderfully colorful web site, displaying her paintings and her other design work.

I think Mexico has definitely had an influence on her--her flower paintings are vivid and exuberant. Visit the gallery online and say hello to my dear friend and former colleague.

Lady Mendl's Tea Salon in New York has a very enticing program through the holidays and into the New Year. If you are looking for an event when visiting the city, consider this an elegant step back in time. And if you have tea rooms in your community, you might inspire them by letting them in on the very active events at Lady Mendl's. The salon is located at The Inn at Irving Place, which was featured in Victoria, and where we sometimes used the pristine backgrounds for photography for the magazine. The Inn consists of two beautifully restored townhouses that date to the mid-19th century.

For pure delight and fun, check out the Anthropologie site--their "snow house," in particular. These folks go a long way in making their site, stores, and catalog a wondrous experience. Not that we are all going to don "the gay apparel" they feature, but if you want to get into the mood for winter holidays, it's a nice trip across the internet. I thought the "outfits" put together with themes like "iced branches" and "lamplight" were very expressive. And "at home" is the place to find a product that will put you in mind of sleigh bells ringing.

"We're happy tonight," evokes the song--and the folks who create these images sure must have been. Snuggle up and enjoy. And thanks to Tricia Foley for sending it along.

Creating New Traditions

2009-11-12T11:36:00.009-05:00

A few years ago I did a series of interviews on television and radio on this topic. I was surprised how many men were interested in the topic, too. First, all of you have your own ideas based on your families. It's the kind of creativity that may need just a small candle light to ignite it. If you've been thinking of something and haven't gotten around to do it, maybe the time is now.

I have always regretted not keeping a holiday log. How simple it would have been to jot down the menu, a recipe or two, and most importantly, who were the guests that year. We spend time these days trying to recreate moments that would have taken just a few to record. One of my favorite gifts for new homeowners in such a log. It doesn't have to be an expensive one. There are such things, but one can make it as simple as a notebook. However, the leather bounds do have a way of not getting lost or misplaced. If you go overboard, the project is likely to be too demanding to keep going year after year. You can find some great journals at sites such as Etsy, Jenni Bick Bookbindin g, or Rustico.

I was interested in the comment about having Thanksgiving in one's own home for the first time, rather than bundling up little ones and heading to grandmother's house. Both are marvelous experiences. But if this year, the torch is being passed to your table, it's a great time to start a new tradition and keep some of the beloved ones, too. We Americans move around a lot--and it means that many of us are putting down new roots every few years. How comforting to have a cutting from a previous root to plant in a new community.

One recent year, I was separated from my family on Thanksgiving Day. My dear friend Ann invited me to her apartment. I met old friends and made a few new ones. Ann and her family have spent holidays with us over the years. It wasn't at all like being "alone." My dad always used to say it wasn't Thanksgiving unless we had at least two new people at the table. He did his best to keep that faith, I must say. Dear Kim has spent a few holidays with us recently because she had to put her wings down as a result of a horse riding accident. The moral of this story is that the holidays are for good cheer with those we love and those who love to spend time with us.

When creating new traditions, it would be a nice idea to get input from the whole family. Tom, at Ann's, creates the place cards. It was his idea as a little guy and has continued for this college student. And dad can do more than carve the turkey or the roast. As I suggested, men I've talked to want their own part of the festivities. And how many men do we have in the kitchen these days? Well, there's one in my house.

Would love to have you share your new traditions, as well as the ways you keep the holidays in your family. And best of all, how a new tradition blends beautifully with the time-honored ways we celebrate. My friend Suzy, who now lives in Mexico, recalls every Thanksgiving of seeing the parade in our New York offices of Victoria. We watch it on television now, wherever we are, and remember what it was like being eyeball-to-eyeball with those balloons. Suzy writes an email from Mexico--and it's like having her with us--an old tradition blends with a new one. And while I wouldn't have missed the parade for anything when we opened our offices to dozens of people and their kids, I enjoy not getting up at five in the morning to do it.

Happy to have so many good comments; you are all sharing such heartfelt thoughts and ideas. It is exactly what should be happening--Bravo.

Tradition At Home

2009-11-06T21:46:00.007-05:00

Dear All,

Your comments continue to gladden my heart. And while I valued every one of the readers of Victoria, it is especially wonderful hearing that young people were coming to our pages. And one all the way around the world from Sydney.

I am in my home in Ames, Iowa, where we plan to spend Thanksgiving. Going back and forth between two residences--1,500 miles apart--has its charms and its hassles. For example, the night I left the New York area, the Yankees decided to play in The World Series. I am (and have always been) a Yankees fan, but the traffic jam getting to the airport made me wonder. They redeemed themselves by winning. And the pilot of our plane got us to Des Moines a whole 45 minutes early. What culture shock coming from streams and streams of cars to highways almost deserted. Of course, it was ten o'clock at night. While New York is the city that never sleeps, Des Moines most definitely does.

A few years ago, the city of Ames took it into their heads to tear our house down in order to widen the street I live on. We live in an old section of the city, and our house was built by a local architect in 1937. (Would you believe that the apartment I live in on the Hudson River was built the same year by the same chaps who were responsible for the Empire State Building?) Ours was not the only house or property in danger and what was really lovely was that the citizens of Ames came to our rescue saying they didn't mind waiting a few more minutes at a traffic light. They didn't want to see fellow residents lose their homes. There's something about these Midwesterners that makes one very proud.

Our house is here for this Thanksgiving and we hope for many more to come. Because it is near my husband's Iowa family roots, it's something of a museum of family things, although over the years we have given some treasures to an historic house nearby. Our son's artwork still graces the wall at the bottom of the staircase, and my mother-in-law's "art treasures" hang in the dining room. She bought them on her world tour of Europe, and my husband grew up with them. How different my two homes are. While I have many family treasures in both places, the ones here seem to defy time. They seem to defy whim. There's a certain "don't tread on me" when it comes to style and sophistication. Rather nice.

Great-grandfather Robert Walton looks down from the mantel--his elegant profile made more majestic by the Grand Army of the Republic hat he is wearing. His picture is next to an old clock that belonged to my husband's grandmother from his dad's side. It hasn't worked for years and has defied all effort to have it keep time. Today I found a huge laundry bag at the back of the closet--our son's name was stamped on it. It's the one he took to camp when he was 12. How could I part with it? Back it goes.

We have all been talking about keeping traditions--and the best part of the discussion is the creation of new ones. I must admit that my family always tells me I call forth tradition on anything that's been done more than once. So be it. As so many of you have suggested, it's the glue that makes families. I've loved hearing from you, and hope you continue to jot down ways you keep the holidays as we travel along this season.

Cheers,
Nancy

Traditions to Keep

2009-11-02T10:42:00.010-05:00

Christi's comment on Saturday's post inspired me to continue on the idea of tradition. There are several reasons I admire your comment, Christi. Of course, I'm proud and pleased that our dear Victoria magazine had such an honored place in your life. When I first began the magazine, I used to say, perhaps too lightly, that Victoria was made a successful publication by women who loved their grandmothers, as I did mine. It also seems, in your case, that grandmothers were proactive, too. Bless her.

For those in the world who didn't understand the magazine, they would be surprised to know that young woman were so taken with our editorial. It never seemed to matter that "our numbers" always proved our claims. But that didn't matter as much to me as did stories like yours. What you know in your heart and soul is way more important. We even had babies named Victoria. And those were definitely younger women having those girls!

And now to the subject of this entry--traditions. You have given us all some great inspiration. Using decorations made by your children and lovingly caring for legacies from your grandmother are so wonderful. I can't think of any other way to express it. You are putting family, your family, at the center of your celebration. And you are doing it in your own special way.

We all have such traditions that bring us great joy. And now is the season when the boxes are getting unpacked and the holiday china is being taken down from the china cabinet and run through the dishwasher (but only if appropriate).

In our house, one of the first things I do with Christmas in the air is polish the silver and cranberry glass pitcher that has been in my husband's family since 1902. The Walton quilt, a log cabin design made on an Iowa farm, is only on display during the holidays. It is the essence of our family--and while we take good care of it, we love to share its artistry with others. The first ornament on our tree every year is a tiny Santa that was given to our son the year he was born.

And so, again, thank you Christi for reminding us of how endearing our traditions are. Traditions to keep. Tis the season. Please share yours with us.

Happy Halloween Weekend

2009-10-31T23:33:00.004-04:00

My door is decorated with Mr. Pumpkin, an engaging fellow from Simply Gianna. You may recall I was going to add him to my decor--and I did for this special season. He'll hang around through Thanksgiving.

All of us adore seeing the little ones who come to the door and delight in all the princesses, pirates, witches, and goblins with grinning faces. Moms and dads are usually hanging back with careful eyes on their young ones. It's a nice holiday when it's all in good fun.

Halloween is also definitely a season changer. After the masks are hung up, we adults start planning for Thanksgiving. I am a holiday kind of person. I love all the tradition, the good will and good spirits, and try to keep the stress level down. I'm always thinking about how to make our home prettier and more welcoming. And there are so many things to help us on the market these days. But aren't the best decorations the ones you and your kids make.? 'Tis the season to be creative and have a jolly good time.

Promises to Keep

2009-10-29T10:33:00.002-04:00

And I shall about the two biographies of Louisa May Alcott and Lucy Maud Montgomery. However, the two books add up to almost a thousand pages and may take a little time to devour. The Alcott book was written by a screenwriter, while the Montgomery was written by a scholar who has been involved with her life for decades. The later reminds me of the book my friend Judith Thurman wrote about Colette's life. Judith spent years in research and her book is a testament to her skill as a researcher, writer, and literary critic. A subject can take over one's life.

This morning, I spoke on the phone with a research librarian at Washington Irving's home, Sunnyside, in Irvington, New York. I could tell by her voice what enthusiasm she has for her work. Catalina Hannan will be exciting to work with. She, too, is working on a book about life in the 19th century, having discovered a cache of letters in Irving's family. "It is the everyday life that fascinates me," she said in our long conversation. "And I always know that the avenue I am taking will lead to so many more things to discover." I am beginning to think there is a "fine madness" about rediscovering the past, and those of us engaged in it keep turning pages and in every one there is the possibility of revelation.

And so, we will not be rushed. I have to give Mary Henley Rubio her due on her Montgomery biography. It will take some time to truly appreciate it. But what I can say, is that such an endeavor is in itself admirable. I have questioned before whether biographers chose their subjects, or if it the other way around. I'm inclined to think the latter. This is the book that Rubio was meant to write and to which she had pledged the very best she has to give. What is also important is to tell the story so that the reader comes along with the same passion as the writer. That is what I will be looking for in this book.

I am delighted by the comments I have been receiving from those of you on this blog. Anne, of Green Gables fame, was the one who gave us our kindred spirits reference. (I even adore being called to task for loving Daniel Green slippers. And I admit that this season's shoe with puppy faces give me pause...) What I love about our recent book discussions is that these are
works that have given us a common language with which to communicate; We can talk shorthand when we deal with things that have become so much a part of our lexicon.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning has been in mine since I memorized her poetry when I tried out for the drama club in high school. I didn't get in, but How Do I Love Thee? has never left me. And how much I liked doing the story in Victoria magazine that brought her world to life. I am touched that it was so meaningful to some of you.

And so, in the words of Robert Frost, I have promises to keep, and hopefully will fulfill them as we blog on.

Little Women

2009-10-26T07:49:00.004-04:00

Women we never met helped to raise many of us. It was their words--the stories they told us and the characters they created--that tended us. A chapter a night, perhaps, we are indebted to them forever. Two among them were Louisa May Alcott and Lucy Maud Montgomery. While I have known of both of their lives, I know Montgomery better because I have read her journals many times. It is one of my most treasured books. In Anne of Green Gables she gave her readers the essentials of her own life, but it was a thread rather than entire fabric.

The discussion of Louisa May Alcott and Orchard House, her home in Concord, Massachusetts, brings to my mind an important fact: Behind the children's classics that we have come to love and call our own own, each in our own way, were flesh and blood women--and women of their times. Their fiction gives us hints, but it is not the whole story of their lives.

Two new books on these icons of our childhoods, The Woman Behind Little Women and Lucy Maud Montgomery: The Gift of Wings, are biographies you may want to read. From what I know of them, they will have disturbing notes. But I've ordered them, and when they arrive, I'll talk more about each. But what I will remember most is the little girl in the Newfield Public Library devouring the books that seemed written just for her. What a gift for a writer to touch hearts and souls, perhaps even when her own life had hurt and sorrow.

On a Perfect Autumn Day

2009-10-22T11:19:00.012-04:00

The poet, Edna St. Vincent Millay, wrote one of my favorite poems. I quote it so often, I see my family and friends take a deep breath when I start. It is called, God's World, and begins,

O world, I cannot hold thee close enough!

Thy winds, thy wide grey skies!

Thy mists, that roll and rise!

Thy woods, this autumn day, that ache and sag

And all but cry with colour!

Well, today was a day with bright sunshine and glorious color--and what beckoned me was a trip to Stone Barns.

For years, I've walked the Rockefeller property in Westchester County, always looking with great admiration at the French style stone barns in the distance. Several years ago, an organic farm and ecological center was developed on this property and now Stone Barns is open to the public. (You pay a small parking fee which is refunded if you spend $15 for lunch or in the gift shop). How can I be so fortunate, I say to myself, to live so near such a unique place?

Their kitchen garden alone is a delight to visit. You must drive carefully on the winding roads as you might encounter a chicken sauntering across the path. But who would speed at Stone Barns? So many things to see. Sheep, Black Angus grazing on the hillside, snow white turkeys, and so many other pastoral vistas. Stone Barns does have a renown restaurant, Blue Hill, but there is also a small cafe with an ideal lunch for a warm, fall day when you can sit outside at long tables. Everything is made from produce on the farm. A two-inch high frittata and a salad could not have tasted better. And the tiny chocolate chip cookies which came home in my bag probably won't make it past teatime.

The gift shop at Stone Barns has a well-edited selection of books including many cookbooks which emphasize it's mission. I always find stocking-stuffers for children--unique things like a woolly ram finger puppet. I once bought bright orange sweatshirts in wee sizes for newborn twins. They worn them on their first pumpkin picking outing. The shirts are decorated with a carrot, which is the emblem of Stone Barns. Today, I indulged in a mandarin and lavender scented candle made by Paddywax. The container, itself, a little work of art from recycled materials. Yes, I will save it and find a way to use it. Have no fear, it will be recycled yet again.

On the way home, along roads lined with rustling leaves, I am reminded of another of Edna's poems: Afternoon on a Hill. Forgive me if I have overused it in my writing:

I will be the gladdest thing Under the sun!

What is there about a perfect autumn day that so inspires--can it be it is simply pure perfection? Have you a time to share?

Something to Slip Into

2009-10-19T10:01:00.007-04:00

A fuddy duddy virtue--comfy footwear. I see women in the city trying to reach the heights in high, high heels. It's called fashion, darlings, and as my grandmother used to say, "It hurts to be beautiful." Maybe their feet don't hurt, but there has to be a treacherous pothole or sidewalk crack that takes revenge on a too thin heel.

Today, I read that runway models are slipping into $350 leather flats from NewbarK Slippers. I have nothing against the savvy women who came up with the idea that one could carry comfy flat footwear for getting from place to place. In fact, I am highly in favor of it. However, for those of us in more down-to-earth spheres and with pocketbooks that scream at such an expenditure, I have a fuddy duddy suggestion--Daniel Green.

Not too long ago a friend of mine complained about having to go to a formal event where she'd have to stand for a long time and her feet always hurt under such circumstances. I directed her to Zappos and Daniel Green slippers as a solution. "Daniel Green?" she questioned in astonishment. "My dad used to send me to Lord and Taylor every Christmas to buy my mother a new pair. How could I possibly wear them to this event?" She did take my suggestion and found a nice pair of velvet flats at a price of about $40.

Daniel Green are no longer your mother's Christmas slippers. (Although if you are looking for such a pair, you'll find them at this old reliable company.) They have, however, anticipated the need for nice-looking and sometimes, rather "hip," footwear.

Recently, they've been offering an indoor/outdoor option. I love driving in mine and then popping into the supermarket. I wouldn't suggest a long hike on a rough road. Confession: I am almost an addict and maybe went overboard in the number I have. I'm often asked, "Where did you get your shoes?" I have to admit--they are my slippers--but my prince charming ones because when they "kiss" my toes, I feel like Cinderella.

I have absolutely no financial motive for passing along my "favorite things" slippers. I just want all my friends to know that its very chic to do so on those days when high heels might slow you down. By the way, what happened to the women who were wearing or carrying running shoes with them? Is that over? Fuddy Duddy better get busy on this now non-trend. At least the girls in heels don't knock you down on the way to the train--they have to go slowly. Those running-shoe types can be dangerous with the speed they travel.

And, oh, I have nothing against high heels. They are beautiful, and I love that. Some of them are almost like sculptures. Fortunately, statues aren't on the move on busy streets. Now, you've been blessed to slip into something comfortable when you're on the run. NewbarK or Daniel Green or your own discovery. Pass it on!

Found Treasure

2009-10-18T10:19:00.002-04:00

To begin, I just read something about the English--that they have a high tolerance for "messiness" in their homes. I feel the drizzle of English blood I have, on my father's side, rise to the occasion. I have been trying to order the books that have been pouring in on my new project. Sometimes, I have to yank myself out of the 19th century to answer the door or pay a bill. And I have not been the great housekeeper I would like to be and never have been. Piles of books and notes seem to be an ever-increasing menace to navigate around here. But I am trying; and this morning, I picked up a book in a place that hasn't been touched for a while, opened it, and found treasure.

The book, Our Famous Women, An Authorized Record of the Lives and Deeds of Distinguished American Women of Our Times, is the 1886 edition. (Low and behold, the book is now in paperback on Amazon!) It was a gift given to me many years ago from good friends, Joe and Marlene Wetherall. Marlene worked freelance for Victoria and Joe is a favorite friend for his enthusiastic support of my son's music. Whenever he plays Where or When I think of Joe requesting that beautiful song--and asking Paul not only to play it, but sing it! Heaven!

Well, my dears, this book got shelved at a time when a busy life didn't give me too much time for 700-page books. And it's lovely binding with gold placed it in the decorative rather than the reading column. I'm sure a dust cloth has come in contact hundreds of times over the years, but this morning I opened it. The amazing thing is not just the women written about--but the women who did the writing. I just never thought of Julia Ward Howe fulfilling a publisher's request to write about Maria Mitchell, the American astronomer. Thanks to Trish Foley, we had a wonderful story about her in Victoria, or I might not have known who she was.

Of course, I don't recognize the names of all the writers. I was pretty good on the subject of the profiles. Susan B. Anthony's story is told by Elizabeth Cady Stanton, and since she was a shoulder-to-shoulder suffragist, she was well-versed in her life, times, and accomplishments. Harriet Beecher Stowe is the author of the chapter on Catherine E. Beecher, the poet and teacher who wrote to help women manage their homes and families. She was Harriet's older sister.

What a wonderful idea they had at A. D. Worthington & Co., Hartford, CT. And yes--it is, as they claim, "superbly illustrated," although some of our foremothers seem a bit stern, with the exception of Mary Clemmer. She opted for a profile to show off her elaborate hairstyle and rested her chin on her hand. Mary was a journalist who reported on the surrender of Maryland Heights in September 1862 from her own personal experience. According to her biographer, Lilian Whiting, "Mary Clemmer has ennobled journalism by her profound conviction of its moral significance." We could use some of that today, me thinks.

The moral of this story is to keep your treasure and delve into it once in a while. You never know what you might find that makes your day as this did mine.

Scooping The New York Times!

2009-10-15T13:17:00.002-04:00

My journal seems to have had the story on Rachel Ashwell's new shop and book before The New York Times. Scoops are something that persons with journalistic blood respond to. The Times, however, with a few more resources than my journal and a lot more reach, have a comprehensive review of Rachel's career in the Home section of the paper today. The article deals mainly with trends and business decisions.

For those of us who just like Rachel's style and pluck, it was a lot to take in. I am sorry that some bad business decisions led to the closing of many of her stores. There has been a time in our national life when success has meant more instead of best and better. And not in just our country: When I was in Vancouver, Canada a few years ago, there were four corners with as many Starbucks (at least it seemed that way to me). I guess if you were desperate for a latte, you should not be asked to cross the street. I'm not in the business of marketing coffee, but it is a puzzlement to those of us who would walk a mile--or cross an ocean--for a cup of properly brewed tea with milk (never cream!) and a scone.

I have a chaise that has more than a few pillows. One of them is a Shabby Chic that Rachel presented me with at one point in my Victoria life. Actually, she sent a box full--and several of us now tuck one behind our back when a good book turns into a long reading session. (I am supposed to be keeping my nose to the grindstone in research and reading for my new book, but I have sinned recently with Provenance by Laney Salisbury and Aly Sujo. The subtitle tells the compelling mystery: "How a con man and a forger rewrote the history of modern art." It's a page turner. And the cover was so seductive, it lured me into buying it.) I like the soft, aged look of the fabric and it is soft and comfy.

I'm happy that Rachel is getting one of those "second acts" that Americans are not supposed to have. I think we need to edit that old saw, don't you?

The Girl in the Attic

2009-10-12T09:17:00.006-04:00

When I started this blog, I had the same trepidation I had when I began work on Victoria. Would I find enough material to engage readers and followers? The first day that the doors of our new offices opened at Victoria and we were joined for the first time with the advertising staff (an unusual situation in the magazine world back then), I absolutely panicked. I called my husband and related that here were all these people whose livelihoods were depending on whether or not I would be able to produce enough engaging material. The wise man, I love so, remarked: "Nancy, you could make a good story out of a piece of ribbon." Well, I don't know about his unbounded confidence, but we did manage to produce issues of the magazine for a good many years--a good many stories. And some of them about pieces of ribbon.

I have just finished reading a review of Francine Prose's new book, Anne Frank: The Book, The Life, The Afterlife, entitled The Girl in the Attic. It's evidence that when you keep your pores open, good material comes your way. Francine wrote for us several times as Victoria, and I'm sure that she would have been a writer in residence if I had stayed on at the magazine. She's not only a gifted writer, but a woman committed to her subject matter. She had a core that I've always admired. (On a personal note, one of our staffers lived near Francine's mother in Ulster County, and we all felt a personal connection to her through this lovely lady.)

By the way, I stay fiercely proud of our writers program. We brought good writing and good writers to our audience. Some were familiar, like Madeleine L'Engle; some were new voices, like Susan Minot. Kitty Ross, our literary editor, did a fabulous job of managing our literary side. The book she edited, called The Quiet Center (it has since been retitled) was a celebration for our 10th anniversary. What better heritage could Victoria have than to encourage talented and perceptive women in the last decade of the 20th Century to write of their lives and times?

So it seems that material comes naturally to me for this blog. In many cases, blending my past editing with my present inclinations. Read the review in The New York Times Book Review, and you'll realize what an inquiring mind Francine Prose has. When you combine that with good writing and good instincts, you have a work in the tradition of books to pay attention to.

And now to Anne Frank's diary: One of the things I took comfort from in the review is that many publishers in America turned the book down. All kinds of reasons, for saying "no thanks," and among them was the quality of the literary content. This book that has been read by millions the world around and its relevance was missed by the people who were supposed to know what people want to read. I suppose that as a person who has been told "I don't think so," more than once, I have to toast the brave souls who said "Yes!" and took a chance on something they believed in. There should be a special hall of fame for them somewhere; some prize that goes to the publishing house or film studio that went with their better instincts instead of the prevailing winds. I don't know if houses have an office for the "no's" to be reviewed, but it wouldn't be a bad idea. They might discover a book like The Diary of Anne Frank or a film like Casablanca.

If you're being told you're crazy about your pursuing your aspirations, always listen. After all, there are lots of wonderful and successful books published by people who know a thing or two. But also give the judgment a healthy degree of skepticism. If something is burning a hole in your heart, pay attention. It might take time and courage, and even if it doesn't work, at least you tried. If I sound like a Pollyanna, blame my grandmother. She taught me to tilt at windmills when I really thought I had a good reason to. Success stories, please.

Mary Morris, I miss you...

2009-10-08T10:59:00.002-04:00

Once in a while this computer of mine gets a mind of its own. At least, that's how I explain a stray comma or a missing word. At Victoria, there was an incredible person who presided over our copy like a general in the field. Mary Morris was our "word" person and one of the best line editors in the business. I think her proudest day may have been when a group of English teachers wrote to compliment us on our use of the language.

As an editor-in-chief, one is the face of the magazine. But everyone knows that many talents have to toil to put out a good product month after month. Mary was an unseen hand, and what I liked about her most was she never made compromises. And she often kept me on track. Her rewrites were impeccable. No copy was considered unimportant. A caption in Favorite Things always included extra information that the reader wouldn't have missed if it weren't there. And Mary had writers she relied on who were great researchers. One writer once told me that Mary made her a better writer by simply reminding her that she didn't have to tell the reader what one could plainly see; she was to dig deeper than that. Caption writing is an art and Mary is a master. The next time you read a magazine caption, see if it passes the Mary Morris rule.

I don't get to see Mary as often as I'd like. We manage a lunch with a former colleague now and then--and there is the momentous birthday party that brings us all together. I miss our everyday encounters with words, and I sure miss her taking a sharp point to my writing. (I've been hitting the keys pretty hard these days with one book in proof stage and a new one piling up pages of raw copy.) But I guess this is one of those situations where one has to be thankful for what we had for as long as we had it. I learned a lot from Mary Morris, and so did the millions of readers of Victoria. Tip your hat: She deserves it.

Shabby Chic Interiors

2009-10-07T10:30:00.008-04:00

Rachel Ashwell is the high priestess of the found object. She's been preaching her creed of pretty, casual, and love of orphans from stray pieces of lace to vintage wallpapers. But that doesn't mean she's old news. Rachel has a new shop on Mercer Street in New York and a new book--Shabby Chic Interiors. She was featured both in Victoria magazine and in a Victoria book, Designers in Residence. It was one of my favorite of all the Victoria books because talented designers shared their homes along with great ways for readers to enrich their own.

Since, Rachel has gone on to producing product in line with her design concepts and her philosophy: "...wherever I am, I make my nest, even in a rented home or hotel. With flowers, music, candles, and beautiful comfortable things, a home will be a much lovelier place for our hearts to be." Sounds great to me. I also like Rachel's practice of enjoying some of her finds for awhile and then passing them on. I've done some of this myself. I think, in a way, it gives us permission to go on collecting--knowing others will enjoy the treasure we couldn't resist. Although Rachel admits, as do I, that there are some "forever" favorite things.

What I like about Rachel's approach is that almost everything is accessible. And she encourages her readers to be a bit brave in their decorating choices. Some of the things in the book are simply fun to look at. Even I, who believes in the ever-changing landscape of home, probably wouldn't ever have a tablecloth made of layers of ruffles and lace. But it sure is fun to see--and maybe a ruffle or two might be added to make a short cloth longer for a new table. I also enjoy Shabby Chic's soft palette. The pretty pale pinks and friendly shades of worn linen are comforting. And of course there is the emphasis on casual. It's hard for some of us to accept a look that isn't perfect. On that score, I have become very accepting of the "delicate" touch my cat, Kitty Foyle, has added to my "forever" sofa. And I was pleased when I bought a new needlepoint footstool that she enjoyed trying out her claws on. It now has the look of one I might have owned for years. Fortunately, Kitty is very selective in her conquests and not very persistent.

I have a ritual of display inspiring spreads from books I like. I have a stand that Wisteria sells (I actually have several) at a very reasonable price and designed for cookbooks. Mine can be found just about anywhere from a window sill to the dining room table--which often looks more like a library table. Shabby Chic Interiors has several good candidates including a wonderful photograph of hydrangeas drying in a very old soda bottle. I think on a snowy day, I'll remember to display this.

It's been nice to visit an old friend and find she is still keeping faith with her personal style. One of these days, I'll venture downtown to Mercer Street and see the pages come to life. In the meantime, I'll enjoy anew some of "my favorite things."

I hope you will do the same with yours.

Sharing A Day

2009-10-05T11:02:00.002-04:00

This past Saturday, thousands of people stood in the rain to enter a church and synagogue to honor the wonderful man who was the minister of our church for our 30 years. The doors of the synagogue were graciously opened to the overflow crowd. I think that would have pleased the man who we all came to know in special ways and to whom we were saying a final goodbye.

Actually, it is my son's church and The Reverend Frank Forrester Church was his minister. But my husband and I, although not members, have always supported the work of All Souls Unitarian in New York. I know many of you will understand the kinship that a man of God can have with a congregation. This particular man held out arms long and wide. One of the stories shared on the church web site was of a little girl coming to church for the first time and being asked what she remembered. She replied it was "wizard" in the flowing red robe. And so he was to many, but not to himself. Forrest, as we all called him, just did his work the best way he knew how. But indeed he was a gifted teacher, counselor, and friend.

This coming Christmas I will miss the story that Forrest always worked into his sermon. It was amazing to me over the years how he found new and refreshing ways to tell it. One of his ancestors was the Frank Church who, as a newspaper editor, wrote the now famous letter, Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. It seems that belief is something that Forrest inherited.

After the service ended and the hymns were sung and tributes given, an elderly woman in a wheel chair was among the first to come up the center aisle. Bethine Church, Forrest's mother, blew kisses to the crowd with a lovely smile on her face. A beaming smile was also something Forrest had inherited. She had lost a son at 61, but she had gained the love and devotion of all those to whom he meant so much.

From this day, I share with you the simple but profound philosophy Forrest so often expounded: "Do what you can; want what you have; and be yourself." The rain was over when we left the church. My coat on the back of my chair had dried, but not the tears on my cheeks.

There is Nothing Like an "Old" Dame

2009-10-02T14:46:00.005-04:00

All over the news: the coming out party of Ardi. I'm talking about the bones that scientists think belong to the oldest skeleton found so far. (No disrespect intended.) She's 4.4 million years old. And why is it that the last two great discoveries have been female? I suspect that these girls were left behind to do the dishes, take in the laundry, and pack the car. (I discount the Kenyan boy somebody tried to get into the act as being pretty old, too.)

Ardi has elbowed Lucy out of the way. She was the oldest before, and pretty good on her toes, I understand. A bit of All About Eve, perhaps. Now THAT's an age-old story, unfortunately.

I guess I'd like to know if either of these girls had discovered tea. Somewhere in that dig there has to be a couple of cups and a copy of Pride and Prejudice, don't you think? Stay tuned--there's still a lot of dirt to get through. We'd never suggest that gossip was born of a primal day, but who really knows? Let's hope they were only concerned with whose palm leaf hat was better or whose kid got to the stream the fastest. Generations may come and go, but we girls know what really matters--the small talk of everyday life. And of course the humor we can't live without--no matter how many years old we are.

Like this piece of levity on a Friday morning when I should be vacuuming.

Have a great weekend picking apples, finding just the right pumpkin, and sipping cider. Autumn rituals that never seem to change, thank goodness. And oh, welcome to the clan, Ardi.

A First Best Friend Story

2009-10-01T11:38:00.002-04:00

Yesterday I met Trish Foley, a great friend and former colleague at Victoria, for lunch and an afternoon of theater. We had lunch at Orso, a place known for individual pizzas, and it reminded us both of our photo shoots when pizza was the cuisine of the day--and night. Chinese food got its licks in, too. This pizza is sliver thin and has lovely fresh basil atop.

The play was based on Ilene Beckerman's Love, Loss, and What I Wore. I think I spotted a couple of husbands in tow, but it was a girl's afternoon out, for sure. Mostly, it is funny and familiar--like all the stuff we carry around in our handbags. There were a few poignant moments based on stories contributed by women who were not in the book. Tyne Daly, a Tony award-winning actress, presented the little drawings of outfits from the book and told the author's story. Trish and I laughed along with everyone else at the related moments of costume disaster. Some of you may remember when we covered Ilene's unique art in Victoria. Maybe a few in the audience discovered her in our pages.

Before meeting Trish, I stopped to have a pair of glass frames adjusted. I may be a dainty lass about some things, but when it comes to eyeglasses--I might as well be King Kong. In my handbag, along with all the lipsticks, pens, and other things I was to hear about in a few hours, I had a proof of the cover of My First Best Friend. Trish's picture with her best friend, Celeste, is on the back cover--two young girls on a beach walk on Long Island. And I wanted to share it with her. The young woman who helped me is my favorite of the opticians who are there to either fit you with new glasses or keep the ones you have operational. She knows me well! I decided to show her what my specs have been focused on lately. And she mentioned that she had a first best friend story, too. Since I'm hoping to continue the dialogue on this marvelous subject with a web site, I was anxious to hear her story. It was one that stopped me in my tracks and ended up with us hugging each other.

My optician is from another country, coming here as a young child. Her parents were divorced when she and her sister were very, very young. The children were divided. Coming to America with her father, M., I shall call her, entered school. And on that first day, she met her first best friend--the sister she had lost when the parents separated. "When I heard my last name, I responded," she said, "and so did another girl in the class." Providence untied two sisters who have been inseparable since. They are both young moms and enjoy each others families so very much.

You can imagine how fast my heart was beating. While I wish I had found this story while I was still collecting memories of first best friends, I was reminded, yet again, of the power of love and connection. Like Victoria, My First Best Friend, was a labor of love for me, in more ways than one. If you have a story, wait until the web site or blog for the book goes up. I'd adore hearing about the special power of friendship in your lives.

Paris in September

2009-09-29T13:21:00.002-04:00

Is it possible that I still have an editor's timetable implanted in my brain? Is this why I am veering toward Paris in these sentimental September days? One of my favorite issues of Victoria was A Woman's Private Paris. I knew that many of my readers had never been or would never be able to go to Paris, but I wanted to share the magic of that special place through a woman's eyes. Interestingly, two of my favorite issues happened during the last year I edited Victoria. The other, was In Love with Shakespeare's England. If I had stayed on, I would have lobbied that that issue become the basis for a book.

I loved both of these issues because they had the work and enthusiasm of the editors who worked on them--Trish Foley for England--and Susan George and Eliette Markhbein for Paris. Also, the incomparable Mary Forsell brought her knowledge of literature to the quotes in the Paris issue. I signed Mary up at once to do the quotations I included in my new book, My First Best Friend. Her ear for voices from women's literature is impeccable.

And so, yesterday, after a visit to my dentist, I virtually walked across the street to the Paris Theater. It is a treasure in New York--at the tip of Central Park and across the street from the Plaza Hotel (moan, the Palm Court is now gone). When my long time dentist, Dr. Bill Munton, moved to 61st Street and Fifth Avenue, I knew it was a danger zone. At least my husband felt that way. It is also a hop and skip from Bergdorf Goodman, where I go to look at lovely new and old furnishings on the 7th floor.

The Paris is beautifully maintained and even has a mezzanine which takes me back to my old movie-going days. Showing was Coco Before Chanel with the enchanting Audrey Tautou. The theater was packed with young women eating and drinking their way through a good but not great film. I'll let you all judge for yourselves if your interests take you to a movie house near you or watch it in the future on DVD. What excited me, almost more than the film I was watching, were the previews for The Young Victoria. I shall be first in line for that one. I'll find my aisle seat at the Paris, if I am in New York and not in Ames at the time.

And so during an early autumn day, I was engulfed in Paris, in more ways than one. I even stopped at Bergdorf's and got a spritz of a lovely French perfume on my wrist. Was that the reason I did the impossible--get a cab on Fifth Avenue at the beginning of a good rain? Maybe so. A woman's private Paris day in New York.

Shopping Made By Hand in Paris

2009-09-25T20:34:00.008-04:00

As promised, here are some of the entries that Pia Jane Bijkerk shares with us in her new book. These caught my eye and interest for a variety of reasons.

Marie Louise De Monterey: Find a hand-stitched 1920's evening slip among the vintage clothes that Maria has assembled in her shop in one of the oldest sections of Paris. French fashion from past decades is the stock and trade of this shop and you just might run into an actress searching for a frock to wear to the Cannes Film Festival. Children's clothes also catch Maria's eye, as they will yours. Pia reports that stock changes seasonally and one of the photos in the book shows shoes lined up below the fashions.

Pep's: I was delighted to follow Pia's reasoning for including an umbrella repair shop amongst her shops. "But this is Paris where repairs, alterations, craftsmanship, and restoration services have never ceased to be appreciated." No tossing broken umbrellas aside. Take the rain protector on life support to Pep's in Paris's oldest arcade. You'll enter through a wooden doorway to discover a "semi-enclosed alleyway, lovingly maintained and clad in overgrown ivy." Do not bother to break an umbrella as the ticket to admission at Pep's, you can purchase a new one from a nice selection. But if your antique parasol is showing signs of wear, you'll find the perfect place for a repair here.

Alexia Hollinger: Fabric handbags from vintage textiles is the stock you'll find in this shop, now 13 years old. When Alexia began, she was bucking the long French tradition of leather handbags. But her creativity and craftsmanship has won converts. A vintage silk scarf will be transformed to an enchanting bag by Alexia. She also creates from new fabrics, chosen with the same eye. I suspect if you visit this shop, you'll leave with a bag that suits you.

La Droguerie: Craft enthusiasts will go wild with the supplies stocked here. And even if you're not looking for beads or ribbons extraordinaire, you'll enjoy the wonderful ambiance of the shop, which was once a butcher's shop. Yarn skeins now hang from the old butcher's hooks. Feathers, twine, and spools of every kind of thread imaginable can be found in profusion.

Le Bonheur Des Dames : Here you'll find one of the biggest embroidery boutiques in France with so many kits, you're sure to find one you can't wait to tear into. The setting is contemporary with sunlight flooding into the shop. Pia says: "The company has been producing its range of products for more than thirty years." The instructions for projects come in English and many other languages. I suspect this is a citadel for embroiderers from all over the world.

Lune: Having a son with a voluminous collection of vintage ties, I was attracted to Lune. Sometimes he thins out his collection and offers orphans up to a friend who crafts from ties. Lune does it in spades with some stunning results. Oh, the belts! You might be inspired to raid a tie rack in your family to try your hand at designing in the manner of Lune. Madame Jendly makes all manner of enticing things from hats to necklaces from old ties that still have beauty. Pia calls the place "a candyland." And it seems from looking at the photos in the book and visiting the web site, she's spot on. And the boutique is not hidden in a closet--rather it's dazzling with an array of chandeliers and fairy lights.

Thanks for shopping with me, and if you'd like to share your choices from Pia's book or your own experience, please do.