Category Archives: Fashion

Living creatively stylishly

Erring in the direction of kindness

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Do all the other things, the ambitious things – travel, get rich, get famous, innovate, lead, fall in love, make and lose fortunes, swim naked in wild jungle rivers (after having it tested for monkey poop) – but as you do, to the extent that you can, err in the direction of kindness.
– George Saunders, American writer, from his commencement speech at Syracuse University for the class of 2013

Dressing up in a casual way with shorts. My Kate Spade handbag was a big find at a local consignment shop.

Casual yet crisp dressing with shorts. I love mixing green and navy. My Kate Spade handbag was a big find at Urbanity, a local consignment shop in Berkeley, CA.

George Saunders’s commencement speech to the class of 2013 at Syracuse University went viral last week, shortly after appearing in the New York Times. It ranks as one of the top inspirational graduation speeches, in my opinion. What makes it enduring for me is how his advice resonates for all generations. Kindness is at the heart of his speech – though you should read it in its entirety. Looking back on his life, Saunders realized that the thing he regrets most in his life is his “failures of kindness.” As a result, he entreated the newly graduated to “try to be kinder.”

Saunders noted that we humans have difficulty being kinder because of three survival-of-the-fittest instincts, which can be at odds with being selfless and more open and loving: We’re central to the universe, we’re separate from the universe, and we’re permanent. This is why being kind is hard, according to Saunders. But have no fear: There is a way to kindness.

Different ways to dress up the white shirt, cardigan, print shorts: Laura Lombardi necklace (Chicago), Sundance ring, faux horn bracelet from Africa and Jenny K earrings (El Cerrito).

Different ways to dress up the white shirt, cardigan, print shorts: Laura Lombardi necklace (Eskell, Chicago), Sundance ring, horn cuff  from Africa given to me by my sister, and Carmela Rose earrings (Jenny K, El Cerrito).

Finding the way He believes that we become kinder with age. We become kinder, Saunders says, because of our life’s experiences – adversities knock us down, people lend us a helping hand and lift us up, and as a result we are grateful for our community. As we grow older, we see the uselessness of being selfish, staring straight-on at our mortality and watching our loved ones leave us. “As you get older, your self will diminish and you will grow in love,” Saunders said. “YOU will gradually be replaced by LOVE.”

Up close with brass on navy and vivid poses.

Up close with brass and horn on navy and a vivid print. The earrings are reclaimed vintage tokens.

Until then, however, the newly graduated have things to accomplish – careers, dreams, and accolades. Saunders assured them that it’s okay to be ambitious, as the two needn’t be mutually exclusive. “If we’re going to become kinder, that process has to include taking ourselves seriously – as doers, as accomplishers, as dreamers. We have to do that, to be our best selves,” he said. Saunders, who is 54 and graduated from Syracuse’s Creative Writing Program the year before I entered the program, has been a professor there since 1997, and is a highly acclaimed writer of short stories, novellas, and essays.

Change the mood of your outfit by the accessories you choose to be street-stylish.

Change the mood of your outfit with this statement necklace.

Saunders warns us not to let the act of trying to succeed take up all our energies, leaving the “big questions” untended. That’s why he entreats us to do the ambitious things but “err in the direction of kindness.” “Do those things that incline you toward the big questions, and avoid the things that would reduce you and make you trivial,” he said. Saunders advises us to reconnect or remain connected to the luminous part of ourselves “to know it better, nurture it, share its fruits tirelessly.”

Clustered pearl necklace changes the parent and child to beating up on themselves.

Clustered pearl necklace changes the outfit, upping the unique factor. Lava 9 chunky ring (Berkeley, CA).

Getting back to the luminous part of ourselves I can’t say that everyone becomes kinder with age, but for those of us in the second half of our lives, Saunders’s words either remind us of the possibilities or are an epiphany to a gentler, more serene way to live out the rest of our years. At our age, we can and should still strive to be our best selves, even if we haven’t yet accomplished what we set out to do with our lives when we were doe-eyed, in cap and gown, clutching our diplomas in our anxious hands. We may have been distracted and separated from the luminous part of ourselves – either from selfishness, darkness, confusion, sadness, and self-doubt or happenstance or discovery – but we can still “nurture it and share its fruits tirelessly” no matter where we are in our lives.

My sister gave me this bracelet from Africa and I picked up the net-over-pearl necklace at a local consignment shop.

My sister gave me this bracelet from Africa and I picked up the net-over-pearl necklace at a local consignment shop.

The Boys of summer: this mom’s uncharted territory

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With boys you always know where you stand. Right in the path of a hurricane.
– Erma Bombeck, American humorist

Up until this summer, I felt as if I had done all right as a mom. A few bumps here and there, lessons to be learned for sure, and pleasant surprises along the way to bolster my confidence. But as my son, who turned 13 in June, marches down the path of adolescence, I find myself at a loss and with a distinct disadvantage. Having grown up with two older sisters, I have no reference, no touchstone to guide me during these volatile years. Through their preschool and elementary school years, I have witnessed the vast differences between boys and girls, but male adolescence is foreign to me, which naturally increases my apprehension.

Earlier this summer, upon my suggestion, we went to see The Kings of Summer. He and his friend Sawyer sat several seats behind me and my friend Kelly, Sawyer’s mom, in the theater. I thought it was time to add coming-of-age boy movies to his repertoire. But I also wanted to watch the film to gather clues about how teenaged boys think, what motivates them, what’s on their minds, and so on. Strangely, for the first time, I saw this genre from a different perspective. I absorbed the parents’ words and actions from the boys’ point of view. I cringed in my seat; did I say embarrassing things like those parents did? And did my son react the way the two boys in the film reacted? After we shared our opinions of The Kings of Summer, which was more like pulling teeth on his part, he picked up on my discomfort of the parents’ behavior and later joked that I gave him a rash like the mom did to her son Patrick. I laughed, uncertainly.

Half of Jacob's baseball team after seeing the movie The Way, Way Back.

Half of Jacob’s baseball team after seeing the movie The Way, Way Back.

Today, a group of his friends and baseball teammates and a couple of us moms went to see The Way, Way Back, another coming-of-age summer movie about a 14-year-old boy named Duncan, forced to spend summer vacation with his divorced mom, her boyfriend who clearly doesn’t like him, and the boyfriend’s teenaged daughter who looks down on him for the nerd that he is. Once again, I wondered how our boys assessed the adults, given that most of them, if not all, were flawed. Shy and awkward, Duncan nonetheless fought to find a way and a place to shine. What was poignant to me was how perceptive Duncan was and how he was able to dig deep within to find his voice and his bravery. He really loved his mom; he felt her pain and he wanted to protect her, all the while struggling to gain his independence and establish his point of view. I admit that I swiped at my eyes several times while the credits rolled.

A casual outfit for going to the movies with your kids.

A casual outfit for going to the movies with the kids.

The boys filed out to grab something to eat in the food court outside the movie theater, while we three moms sat in our seats enjoying the soundtrack and trying to find out where the movie was filmed – somewhere in Massachusetts. (There was something very evocative and nostalgic about spending vacation at a summer-house by the beach that made me yearn for such a time and setting.) I was also composing myself in my seat. Deep breaths. I thought about the wide range of emotions my son has displayed these past several months. Misinterpreting a simple question for an interrogation. Snapping back at me. Me coming down hard and using the icy-and-controlled-yet-ready-to-erupt-like-a-volcano voice that my mother used on me – though I use mine sparingly for maximum effect. Tears and retreating to his bedroom without saying goodnight. The awkward hug out of the blue when he isn’t fishing for something. Looks of concern on his face when I’m quiet or unresponsive or tired. The flash of a smile from a mouth full of metal. An eruption of deep-belly laughter around the dinner table. The pensive look on his face, which I observe from afar, undetected, and try to decipher.

I thought to myself as I watched him goof around with his friends at our appointed meeting place after eating and some free time, there’s a Duncan in my son. There’s a Duncan in all of his friends, who are great kids. This whole transition from boy to young man is still uncharted territory for me, and while I recognize that we will continue to face more battles and lose battles and force more tears from one another, seeing this film eased my fears somewhat, made me breathe a little easier, and made my heart swell….swipe, swipe.

Worn and old favorites: Embellished t-shirt, army-green jacket, zebra skirt, and Sundance slippers and hobo handbag, with earrings from art bazaar in NYC, Sundance ring and bands, and In God We Trust double band (NYC).

Old, worn favorites: Embellished t-shirt, army-green jacket, zebra skirt, and Sundance slippers and hobo handbag, with earrings from an art bazaar in NYC, Sundance ring and bands, and In God We Trust double-band ring (NYC).

Appropriate at any age: summer and shorts

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Women may be the one group that grows more radical with age.
– Gloria Steinem, American feminist, journalist, and social and political activist

Matching jacket and shorts in cream and green lace work well with a shirred burnt orange blouse.

Matching jacket and shorts in cream and green lace work well with a shirred burnt orange blouse.

In the past year I’ve read articles about what women of a certain age should not be wearing. One in particular, which I did not save and therefore cannot link to the primary source, quoted an older woman well-respected in the fashion industry – I think she is an influential style maker – proclaimed that older women should not wear shorts. Period. End. of. Discussion. While there are always trends to either follow or break, I firmly believe that comfort comes first.

Imagine you are at a baseball tournament and it is 100-plus degrees in the shade. If you want to wear shorts, you should wear shorts. If you don’t feel comfortable in shorts, that’s fine, but you shouldn’t not wear them just because some fashion rule says you can’t do it after a certain age. In the wintertime, it’s easy to do. When you wear opaque tights and boots, you eliminate the fear of exposing flesh. How do you get around that in the summertime?

A statement necklace and ring are all you need.

A statement necklace and ring are all you need with so much lace.

Bermuda shorts help solve the problem. Inseams three inches or greater are also less intimidating to wear. I don’t actively shop for shorts, but in the past I have come across a pair that is unique either in fabric, texture, or style. Sometimes the inseam is shorter than I’d like, but I overcome that by getting the next size up and letting it sit lower on my waist.

Texture, texture, and more texture: This J. Crew statement necklace reminds me of Miriam Haskell of the 1940s. Lava 9 statement ring (Berkeley, CA) and Sundance rings.

Texture, texture, and more texture: This J. Crew statement necklace reminds me of Miriam Haskell of the 1940s. Lava 9 statement ring (Berkeley, CA) and Sundance rings.

If you’re worried about dreaded exposure of veins, creams from beauty shops can blot out the offending purple and blue lines. Or you can go au natural and everyone else be damned. The point is that there are few small things that you can do to get rid of some of the issues and raise your comfort level for wearing shorts in the summertime.

My vintage 1992 Talbots equestrian-inspired crossbody bag is the perfect accessory for this shorts outfit.

My vintage 1992 Talbots equestrian-inspired crossbody bag is the perfect accessory for this shorts outfit.

For me, the bottom line is a combination of comfort and confidence. Make sure the shorts fit and you can walk and sit with ease. Go about your business and forget that you’re even wearing shorts – unless it’s super hot and you’re glad you wore shorts! Stand tall and walk confidently. Any woman can pull of shorts. After all, we are a radical group.

A retro outfit in bright fuchsia and yellow, with brass jewelry and nude strappy sandals.

A retro outfit in bright fuchsia and yellow, with brass jewelry and nude strappy sandals.

Simple accessories are best when the patterns and colors of your outfit are loud: Sundance cuff and rings, Anthropologie wide ring, and Laura Lombardi reclaimed brass necklace (Eskell, Chicago).

Simple accessories are best when the patterns and colors of your outfit are loud: Abacus earrings (Portland, ME), Sundance cuff and rings, Anthropologie wide ring, and Laura Lombardi reclaimed brass necklace (Eskell, Chicago).

Behold the summer bouquets, Volume 2

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I must have flowers, always, and always.
 – Claude Monet, founder of French Impressionist painting

My weekly bouquet for our Portola Middle School auction winner.

My weekly bouquet for our Portola Middle School auction winner.

Up until a few weeks ago, the Bay Area was blessed with sunny skies and warm temperatures this summer. And then I jinxed us. I told someone from out-of-town that we’ve had splendid weather, emphasizing the fact that we’ve had no fog. Sure enough, the day after, the fog rolled in and has made itself comfortable, with no sign of leaving. The sun will peek through by noon, but most days we are shrouded in fog. All this is to say that the dahlia buds are staying tightly bound, waiting for warmth.

Luckily, I have been taking photos of the bouquets each week and can still enjoy their beauty, which I share here. Enjoy! In the meantime, I will say morning prayers for the return of the golden goddess.

Another July bouquet for our auction winner.

Another July bouquet for our auction winner.

Bursting out the vase: My July bouquet for the our Portola Middle School's auction winner.

Bursting out the vase: My July bouquet for Portola Middle School’s auction winner.

Another retro look, channeling Stevie Nicks of the 1970s.

Another retro look, channeling Stevie Nicks of the 1970s. Sheer embroidered tank over a full-length, bias-cut slip, and velveteen jacket snapped up from a consignment shop in Washington, D.C.

Vintage purse (Feathers, Austin, TX), Sundance cuff, vintage Monet earrings (mine from 1991!), End of Century cicada ring (NYC), and Lava 9 Art Nouveau necklace (Berkeley, CA).

Full-length slip matches the velveteen jacket’s lining. Accessorized with vintage purse (Feathers, Austin, TX), Sundance cuff, vintage Monet earrings (mine from 1991!), End of Century cicada ring (NYC), and Lava 9 Art Nouveau necklace (Berkeley, CA).

Sheer embroidered shell overlays the full-length, bias-cut slip.

Sheer embroidered shell overlays the full-length, bias-cut slip.

A touch of Art Nouveau.

A touch of Art Nouveau.

Nostalgia: You can play it again, Sam, after all

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Memory believes before knowing remembers.
– William Faulkner, Nobel Prize-winning American novelist and short story writer, from Light in August

A black-and-white retro outfit.

A black-and-white retro outfit: two-tone vest from Personal Pizazz (Berkeley, CA), wide-legged patterned trousers, and gauzy sheer jacket.

For several months after my mother passed away in the early morning of January 3, 2012, I listened to popular songs from the 1970s on Pandora Radio into the night. I was fully cognizant of what I was doing; I was taking myself back to a time when I was in elementary school and high school, and my parents – though my dad was 55 years old when I was born – were younger, healthier, and full of life. I have a soft spot for many songs from the 70s, but whether I truly liked some of them when they first came out was moot; listening to all of them during that difficult time generated a physical sensation akin to a runner’s high. Priceless few brought me back to near-exact moments in time – running in between the rows of my father’s vegetable garden trying to catch elusive butterflies and helping my mother make lumpia, though my rolls resembled stuffed cigars close to falling apart while hers were tightly wrapped and uniform in size.

I went on the Internet and Googled Louis Prima and Herb Albert and the Tijuana Brass, thankful for technology that enabled me to pull up at a moment’s notice a YouTube video of my mother’s favorite instrumentalists. On those February nights, I was transported to Sunday afternoons in the summer when my mom and friends and relatives played rummy or mahjong, while I suffered as the hostess, serving cold drinks and offering waxy Hostess donuts and pastries at the appointed time. My uncles and aunts would tip me, telling me what a good daughter I was. I couldn’t wait to finish serving and escape to the living room to read my Nancy Drew books, but looking back, the sounds of their laughter, the coins being tossed, the mahjong tiles clicking across the tablecloth were soothing in the cocoon that was my childhood world.

Black-and-white foundation accessorized with Sundance necklace, Tiffany mesh earrings and ring, and The Fickle Bag's embellished purse.

Black-and-white foundation accessorized with Sundance necklace, Tiffany mesh earrings and ring, and The Fickle Bag’s embellished purse.

It was of great interest to me, then, a year and a half later, when I read a New York Times article published on July 8th that was shared by my good friend’s daughter on Facebook. “What Is Nostalgia Good For? Quite a Bit, Research Shows” tackles the centuries-old perception that nostalgia is a disorder or a waste of time. Dr. Constantine Sedikides pioneered the study of nostalgia and produced such tools as the Southampton Nostalgia Scale. Sedikides noted that nostalgia makes us “a bit more human.” Researchers have found that “nostalgizing” helps people feel better and makes “life seem more meaningful and death less threatening.”

Just enough sparkle without being overwhelming.

Just enough sparkle without being overwhelming.

Not surprisingly, researchers in the Netherlands found that listening to songs is one of the easiest ways to induce nostalgia and create a physical sensation of warmth. It’s universal that people are transported instantly to a season or often a moment in time when they hear a song from their past. It connects them to that memory. Recent studies also show that people who nostalgize more frequently develop a “healthier sense of self-continuity.” Through his Experimental Existential Social Psychology Lab out of North Dakota State University, Dr. Clay Routledge found that nostalgia “serves a crucial existential function.” The ability to bring forth “cherished experiences” helps to validate that “we are valued people who have meaningful lives.” Interestingly, his research revealed that people who nostalgize on a regular basis “are better at coping with concerns about death.” Of course, the reason I listened to those songs from the ’70s was to find a time and secure a happy memory of my mother that would supplant the last memory I had of her when she took her last breath – after my two sisters and I endured an hour-and-a-half vigil of watching what seemed like her last breath several times over.

Sheer jacket is an easy alternative to a shawl.

A sheer jacket is a unique alternative to a shawl for cool Bay Area summer evenings.

Dr. Erica Hepper, a psychologist at the University of Surrey in England, discovered that nostalgia helps people deal with transitions, which explains why younger people and older people tend to nostalgize at higher levels than people in middle age. It seems to me, however, that in middle age – or the sandwich age, as it’s been coined – we are dealing with just as many transitions – our children growing up and moving out while our parents are growing frailer and some are moving back in with us. It seems to be our current social landscape.

Revisiting the past and concluding that the present can never be as good as the past is a defeatist and destructive form of nostalgia. Revisiting the past to escape the present and future, and being mired in the past is also a waste of one’s time and energy. Rather, we should call forth cherished memories with those we love and have lost, and be grateful to have experienced those times. Somehow it brings us close to them during moments when we feel lost, ungrounded, and empty. The added gift is being able to draw on those memories instantly, by playing the song whenever we want and need it. We can feel the healing power of nostalgia again and again.

A platform sandal lengthens the leg.

A platform sandal lengthens the leg – and eliminates having to hem pants for us shorter ladies!

Tootsie, Dustin Hoffman, and women

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“But I was a better man with you, as a woman… than I ever was with a woman, as a man. You know what I mean?”
– Michael Dorsey to Julie Nichols, from the movie Tootsie

Dress like a tall, strong woman. Platforms help, as do hand weights to keep strong arms toned.

Dress like a tall, strong woman. Platforms help, as do hand weights to keep strong arms toned.

In 1983, the movies Tootsie and Gandhi were both up for Best Actor awards. Ben Kingsley won over Dustin Hoffman. I saw both movies, and while I greatly admired Kingsley’s performance and the movie – and how could you not give an Oscar to Gandhi – I thought Hoffman’s dual performance of portraying volatile actor Michael Dorsey and actress Dorothy Michaels was a tour de force and worthy of the coveted statue. You could feel Hoffman getting into and understanding his female role. Tootsie has remained one of my favorite movies ever since.

I thought about Tootsie recently when a few Facebook friends posted a clip of part of a Hoffman interview from a few years ago that recently went viral. He talked about the premise of the movie coming from a discussion between him and his long-time friend Murray Schisgal, an American playwright and screenwriter, when the latter wondered how a man would be different if he were born a woman – not what is it like to be a woman. Hoffman thought the make-up team should be able to make him a beautiful woman because he considered himself an interesting woman and therefore expected to be beautiful on the outside as well.

You should watch the clip yourself, but basically he talked about how he had missed out on meeting too many interesting women in his life because they didn’t possess the physical beauty that was his – and society’s – measuring stick for approaching or wanting to know these women. He called it a “brainwashing,” and the clip ends with an emotional Hoffman proclaiming that Tootsie was never a comedy for him. No wonder it went viral! First of all, for me, I adore Dustin Hoffman. I think he’s a great actor. You can feel the intensity and integrity in all the characters he portrays on film. It was touching and refreshing, respectively, to see him so moved and to admit to what many men do – determine whether they want to get to know a woman based on her looks. It’s great that he understands the loss of not knowing so many interesting women in the world.

Silver pops against black: Lava 9 earrings (Berkeley, CA), Carmela Rose bangles and Asian Art Museum flower bracelet (San Francisco), and Kate Peterson necklace (El Cerrito, CA).

Silver pops against black: Lava 9 earrings (Berkeley, CA), Carmela Rose bangles and Asian Art Museum flower bracelet (San Francisco), Kate Peterson necklace (El Cerrito, CA), and Museum of Modern Art ring (NYC).

While I congratulate Hoffman on this epiphany, I have to take issue with something that I noticed about the movie and the characteristics and what it was saying to me and to others long before I saw the Hoffman interview clip. I loved the character of Dorothy Michaels. She was a firecracker who spoke her mind and yet was sensitive and wise. However, the two main female characters – Julie Nichols, played by Jessica Lange, who won Best Supporting Actress for her role, and Sandy Lester, played by a pitch-perfect Teri Garr – were not strong women. Julie drank too much and knowingly dated a womanizer who treated her shabbily. Sandy was lovable but had low self-esteem. (Although she finally stuck up for herself in her finest moment in the movie after Michael told her that he never said he loved her: She fought back, proclaiming, “I never said I love you, I don’t care about I love you! I read The Second Sex, I read The Cinderella Complex, I’m responsible for my own orgasm. I don’t care! I just don’t like to be lied to!” She triumphantly turned her back on him and stomped out, with the prized box of chocolates given to Michael by Julie’s father tucked under her arm.

But who was the strong woman? Dorothy Michaels! Who taught Julie to take control and not be a doormat to her director lover Ron Carlisle, played by Dabney Coleman? Dorothy Michaels. When I realized that, I thought to myself that the inadvertent message is that women can’t be strong, or that they need the help of a man to be strong, something that I’m sure was unintended. Maybe others can weigh in on this seeming incongruous message because to be sure there are challenges in the movies to gender stereotypes. For instance, Dorothy lets it loose on Carlisle during her audition for the role of Emily Kimberly, hospital administrator for a popular soap opera, when Carlisle tells “her” she’s not right for the part because he’s “trying to make a certain statement” and “looking for a specific physical type”: “Oh I know what y’all really want is some gross, caricature of a woman to prove some idiotic point that power makes a woman masculine, or masculine women are ugly. Well shame on you for letting a man do that, or any man that does that. That means you, dear. Miss Marshall.” Of course, Miss Marshall, the producer, sports power pantsuits, wears her hair in an androgynous bob, and has a tough swagger, but you expect this cliché in a movie about the sexes.

A close-up of accessories for a mixed-fabric summer dress.

A close-up of accessories for a mixed-fabric summer dress.

At the end of Tootsie, when Michael Dorsey rips off his Dorothy Michaels wig to reveal who he is after a long, rambling monologue, he faces Julie and says: “I am Edward Kimberly. Edward Kimberly. And I’m not mentally ill, but proud, and lucky, and strong enough to be the woman that was the best part of my manhood. The best part of myself.” This is the moment in the movie that references Hoffman’s discussion in the interview clip about how a man would be different if he were born a woman. It seems to me that in imagining what it would be like and putting ourselves in that situation we actually strive to be the best that we can be. We imagine ourselves as the opposite sex to be interesting, strong, and beautiful inside, which ultimately makes us beautiful on the outside no matter who says what.

Tootsie, which was deemed by the U.S. Library of Congress in 1998 to be a “culturally significant” film and preserved in the National Film Registry, still has a lot to say about men and women – our roles and our perceptions. Whereas the American Film Institute ranked Tootsie the “second funniest film of all time” in 2000, Hoffman was adamant in saying that it was not a comedy for him, and in a nod to its cultural significance, his performance is above and beyond the male-actor-playing-a-woman role such as Robin Williams’ Mrs. Doubtfire. I love so many lines from Tootsie and the sentimental-but-wistful theme song “It Might Be You” sung by Stephen Bishop. Now I have another reason to love the movie, thanks to Hoffman’s honesty and his generosity in sharing his epiphany about women with all of us.