Redefining supermom

“Mama exhorted her children at every opportunity to ‘jump at the sun.’ We might not land on the sun, but at least we would get off the ground.”
– Zora Neale Hurston, folklorist and writer, from Dust Tracks on a Road

I was 38 when I became a mom for the first time and then gave birth to my daughter when I was two months shy of my 41st birthday. One thing I’ve learned – in a nod to the wonderment of motherhood, parenthood: You can never stop learning parenting lessons, no matter what your age, if your heart and mind are open to them.

Supermom wears sparkly tights, an ombre velveteen shift, and ruffled booties.

Supermom wears sparkly tights, an ombre velveteen shift, and ruffled booties.

When David and I found out I was pregnant with our son, we made plans for me to continue working until his birth and then allow me to work on my novel, but morning sickness was taking its toll and my job as a business development writer for a health insurance carrier was neither enjoyable nor fulfilling. I quit in my third trimester. I had been writing articles on the side for a good friend from graduate school and was expecting to rely on increasing freelance assignments to replace my regular paychecks, which we needed. By not commuting or having an office job with set hours, we reasoned, I could stay at home and work around my son’s schedule.

It wasn’t easy. The experience of being a first-time mother was amazing, magical, confusing, exhausting and a whirlwind. Speaking for myself only, I could not imagine dropping him off in the mornings and picking him up in the afternoons, and I cherished being with him during the day. At the same time, however, it was stressful to conduct phone interviews, hoping he wouldn’t wake up, as he stirred in the motorized swing on the other side of the bedroom, my makeshift office. Once, I even nursed him during an interview. Surely a combination of sleep deprivation and the determination to multi-task whenever I could resulted in this jaw-dropping lapse of judgment. I remember halfway into the interview when the interviewee, thankfully a woman, asked me if I was nursing. She recognized the sound and marveled that I could do these two things at once. I vowed never to put myself in an embarrassing situation again, though she and I had a good laugh over it and she told me I shouldn’t apologize at all. That’s what women – mothers – had to do to make things work. It didn’t stop me from finding other ways to multi-task.

In the fog of early motherhood, I remember feeling disconnected from the rest of the world. I missed talking with adults face to face. There came a time when I could no longer handle the many assignments and take care of him full-time, and my mother was no longer able to stay for a week each month to watch him while I worked. I reluctantly agreed to David’s suggestion that we find a nearby family daycare so I could be more productive and not be up all hours of the night to make up for the work that I couldn’t get done during the day. I felt guilty and angry with myself – an early admission that I failed as supermom. I couldn’t take care of him full-time and help contribute financially. At first, and at the same time, it was difficult to be alone in the house and to admit that I could be so productive in this new situation.

Supermom gets her energy from crystal - reclaimed vintage chandelier parts strung on brass chains from End of Century (NYC).

Supermom gets her energy from crystal – reclaimed vintage chandelier parts strung on brass chains from End of Century (NYC).

But give supermom an inch and she’ll take a foot. I was going to make up for this shortcoming. Being highly organized, I made sure that everything was done before David came home from his long day at the office. The laundry was folded, ironed and put away. Dinner was on the table and the kitchen cleaned up. The house was always neat and clean (we had two dogs who shed a lot, so I vacuumed every day). I will admit that I even ironed the bed sheets. Groceries and other errands were done during the day. Bills were paid and filed. Weekends were supposed to be cleared so we could have family time. The only problem was that while the house was in shipshape order, I was still working round the clock and I was even more exhausted and sleep deprived.

The opportunity to go back to an office job came when my freelance editorial work for a magazine that covered people, technology and capital turned into a full-time position. I was thrilled to join the adult world, really enjoyed the work itself and overcame my guilt of having a set workday away from home. I negotiated to be able to come in early and leave early, so I could pick up my son at a reasonable hour in the afternoon. I still remember clock watching and the mad dash of pushing the stroller three blocks to the family daycare and then running to the BART station to catch my train into San Francisco. Few of my colleagues were married, and I endured a few snide comments when I left for the day because many of them stayed past dinnertime, when our editor brought takeout to the employee lunchroom. Never mind that after I put my son to bed and the house was in order, I parked myself in front of the computer to write my feature-length articles late into the night.

By the time my daughter arrived in December 2002, my work situation had worsened, mostly due to my boss’s irrational behavior, low morale and the high-tech industry bubble bursting. Overcome with morning sickness, increasing workload, politics and new management due to the bank taking over the company, I quit ahead of my due date. Again, the goal was to get back to my novel, return to freelance work full-time and stay with my daughter while she was an infant. When my son turned two, he transitioned to a preschool and when my daughter was six months old – much younger than I had thought she’d be for her first transition, I put her in my son’s old family daycare to be able to get more work done.

Supermom ready for action in blue faux fur.

Supermom ready for action in blue faux fur.

As the kids got older and into elementary school, the workday got shorter because the school day was shorter than the preschool and family daycare hours. When my son was in second grade, he drew a picture and wrote a few sentences about his family, which was displayed at the school’s Open House. He wrote: “This is my family. My mom works wen [sic] I am at school… My dad workes [sic] the whole day.” I remembered feeling somewhat cheated. I worked all the time, but it seemed I was a victim of my own success. I could set the dinner menu for the week in 20 minutes and go to the dry cleaners and two grocery stores in less than an hour and a half. By dinnertime, the kids had completed and I had corrected their homework and I had given or supervised their baths. I rocked them in bed, and then began my second shift of work. Nothing was out-of-order in the house. Except for me.

Gradually, I let go of things. The wrinkles in the clean bed sheets don’t bother me as much as they used to. I relented and let David do the weekly menus and get the groceries. I ignore the dust bunnies made of our dog Rex’s fur. The kids rake the leaves, pick up the dog poop, empty out the dishwasher, clean the bathrooms, dust, strip their own beds and so on. (Yes, it helps when the kids are older and take up chores!)

But the biggest thing I did was redefine what it means to be a supermom. There’s nothing wrong with being a supermom, but I wanted to personalize the qualifications to suit me. Last year, I asked my daughter if she wanted to be a writer because she has quite an imagination and loves to write and make up stories. She flatly said no. She didn’t want to be a writer because she said I worked too much, I was up late and I was always tired (read: cranky). That was my wake-up call.

Abloom with resin and satin and tulle roses.

Abloom with resin and satin and tulle roses.

While I value being able to work my schedule so I can walk them to school in the mornings, pick them up after school, be at home with them when they get sick (last winter they both came down with pneumonia on separate occasions and were sick for two weeks each), chauffeur them to their various sporting and other extracurricular activities, and most importantly, make home-cooked meals and have dinner together as a family, I don’t want either my son or my daughter to think that this is the norm for moms or that moms who opt for this lifestyle have to give up who they are. To be sure, all moms make different sacrifices for the family life they choose or that are chosen for them. But in making sacrifices, we can’t let go of what gives us, as women and persons, life.

So when I took a week of vacation this past April to work on the revision of my novel, I talked with my son and daughter about sticking with something despite the barriers, finding a passion and nurturing it, and doing something that truly makes you happy. They saw how happy, how buoyant and energetic, I was. This past June, when my son graduated from sixth grade, we had a long discussion about motivation and perseverance. I told him that fear of failing had kept me from buckling down and finishing the novel but that I was guaranteed to fail if I didn’t try. Wide-eyed, he asked me, “So you mean if you hadn’t been afraid, you would have finished the novel already?” I nodded, and then he nodded slowly and walked away in silence. It remains to be seen when he’ll fully appreciate that nugget of wisdom. But I’m hoping that the notion of a fearless mom has new meaning for my kids.

Tunic - not cape - and leggings.

Tunic – not cape – and leggings.

Also helping me to meet my goal of becoming who I want to be is writing this blog. I’m discovering that my blog has created another valuable by-product, in addition to providing exercise for my writer’s muscles and sharing the challenges and beauty of this time of my life with a bigger community. My posts reflect many of the things I want to tell or share with my kids and, thanks to the Internet and technology, my words and photos are accessible and permanent, relatively speaking. It is, I’ll admit, a form of multi-tasking.

My definition of a supermom has evolved to this: One who loves her children unconditionally, supports them and is always there for them in whatever capacity she can, and pursues her hopes and dreams so that they see and know that the pursuit makes her a whole and happy mom and person. Under those conditions can she love and support fully. These traits are not mutually exclusive. They are also not the traits of anyone else’s but mine.

More importantly, no ironing bed sheets required.

Grayling earrings from Jenny K (El Cerrito, CA) and 3D ring from MOMA (NYC). (The ring, however, is not made of Kryptonite.)

Grayling earrings from Jenny K (El Cerrito, CA) and 3D ring from MOMA (NYC). (The ring, however, is not made of Kryptonite.)

 

Transitions and Transformations Profile*: Laura Leventer of Personal Pizazz

Without leaps of imagination, or dreaming, we lose the excitement of possibilities.
Dreaming, after all, is a form of planning.
 – Gloria Steinem, American journalist and women’s rights advocate

Laura Leventer, proprietor of Personal Pizazz.

Laura Leventer, proprietor of Personal Pizazz.

I first met Laura Leventer three years ago at a New Year’s Eve party thrown by a good friend who has known Laura since high school. I was struck by her utter confidence and fashion style – a fusion of classic, vintage and glamour. It was not a surprise to learn that she was proprietor of a clothing store called Personal Pizazz (3048 Claremont Avenue, Berkeley, CA, 94705, 510.420.0704).

What’s interesting to me is that Laura, now 45, was a teacher for 10 years and then spent the following six years as a department chairperson, principal, and district administrator. Though she loved teaching, working in administration proved to be unrewarding, very political and extremely stressful, especially on her family, with her son being very young at the time. The idea of opening her own clothing store for mostly women but also men wasn’t far-fetched, as Laura had always loved fashion and owned a business license for her personal shopping gigs on the side. She had worked in retail in college and gained valuable knowledge about the entire range of retail processes, and attended a couple of shows and made a few connections in her capacity as a personal shopper. Laura took a district-level administrative position to start saving for her big investment. When her father passed away and left her with enough money to add to her savings, she felt comfortable taking the risk and made that life-changing leap.

Purple walls provide a vibrant backdrop to highlight the luxurious clothing and accessories.

Purple walls provide a vibrant backdrop to highlight the luxurious clothing and accessories.

Filling the fashion niche in Berkeley
When Laura was an administrator, she wore business suits that many admired for being original, different and the antithesis of the retail-chain business suit. “That was the niche I wanted to fill,” she explained. “That was my original direction when I opened – nice-looking business wear that was functional enough for work but interesting enough so you didn’t feel like you were putting on a boring suit.”

Inviting armoires full of stylish clothes.

Inviting armoires full of stylish clothes.

Although she has clients who come to her store for that very reason, they are few and far between. Personal Pizazz’s clientele are mostly women 35 and up, although the timeless styles she carries appeal to all ages, such as formal dresses for proms and bar mitzvahs. Laura has found that many women are no longer dressing in business suits and the ones who do, for whatever reasons, are sticking with the retail-chain look. It’s been a challenge to reach out to them. “I’ve had to evolve to who comes in and what people want,” she explained. Berkeley is already home to artistic, flowing, interesting clothing shops. “It’s done; there are tons of that,” she said. There are, however, very few shops that offer fitted clothing. “I have people come in all the time and ask me if this is a vintage shop because the clothing is more classic style,” she said. And with its purple walls, chandeliers, carved sales-register desk, antique armoires and curio cabinets, and velvet dressing-room drapes, the vibe is definitely vintage.

One-woman business
As the sole employee, Laura is at the store six days a week. “It’s just me doing everything,” she said. As such, being organized is extremely important. She does her own accounting and all administrative tasks, which she tries to complete during store hours to keep work and life in balance. That said, her priority is to always be available for her customers. Despite the creation of charts and graphs to identify trends and make forecasts, there’s no logic to traffic flow into her store. “When I unlock the door for business, I never know what to expect,” she said, which is another reason to be organized and to plan ahead.

Tidying up the winter scarves near the Personal Pizazz neon sign before the first customers arrive.

Tidying up the winter scarves near the Personal Pizazz neon sign before the first customers arrive.

Laura goes to Los Angeles for market week four to five times a year. “Since I’m here six days a week, I’m very organized about what I do,” she said. She flies down Monday morning, attends 20-minute, pre-arranged appointments all day, and flies home that night. The few times she flies back East for appointments with her New York City-based vendors, she takes the Sunday red-eye flight and flies back Monday night. She previews vendors’ digitized line sheets ahead of time, which streamlines her appointments. “I’ve learned to never buy at the show because you will make mistakes,” she said. “You never know if another company will offer similar clothing at a better price or different color.” Laura takes detailed notes and snaps pictures with her iPad, which help her determine what she will order when she returns home. “I am particular and I know what I like,” she said. “I know what works for my customers.”

Laura has learned to always be prepared for the unexpected. Case in point: The ceiling lights died last Thursday, on the day that her store is open until 8PM. While her husband was willing to replace them, the lease calls for professional servicing. “That’s money I didn’t plan on spending, but I don’t have a choice,” she said. Therefore, Laura noted: “Always give yourself wiggle room.” She’s learned from a neighboring business that anything can go wrong and when it does you need to know what to do and whom to call.

Despite the challenges of being a business owner and sole employee, Laura revels in her son’s assessment of her career – indeed, her life: “As my son says, now my job is my hobby and my hobby is my job,” she said.

Personal Pizazz finds - Tocca coat and Asian Eye scarf.

Personal Pizazz finds – Tocca coat and Asian Eye scarf.

Q&A: In her own words
Q: Describe Personal Pizazz in 10 words or less.
A: Classic, quality clothing with a twist.

Q: What are some of the challenges you’ve encountered?
A: I’ve lived in and near Berkeley my whole life, and I dress the way I dress, but there aren’t that many people who do. Even people who want to, think they can’t because other people don’t. There is pressure to not care about clothing. That’s a constant battle. If it [an article of clothing] makes you happy, then your outlook is better, you feel happy, and in turn you look better.

 

Q: What’s the best thing about being the proprietor of Personal Pizazz?
A: Not having to answer to anyone else. My previous boss was the school board and I was jumping through hoops. There’s a lot of bureaucracy – forms to fill out, things you have to do. I still have a lot of forms to fill out and things I have to do, but I don’t have to justify or explain it to somebody else.

Personal Pizazz find - Zelda coat.

Personal Pizazz find – Zelda coat.

Q: What advice would you give to women who are looking to make a career transition or transformation?
A: Do your homework. To be honest, I thought I’d be making a lot more profit by now. There are decisions you have to make along the way. You have to create a nest egg. I was saving and saving until I got to the point where I could say, okay, I can go this amount of time without bringing home any money. And I have this much that I can invest and don’t expect to be able to take out because you’re not going to turn a profit quickly. People have to discover you and they have to become faithful. Whatever the business happens to be, you’re going to make mistakes in the beginning until you figure out what your niche is and what’s going to work. You have to have enough exposure so people know you’re there.

Personal Pizazz is located on beautiful, tree-lined Claremont Avenue in Berkeley.

Personal Pizazz is located on beautiful, tree-lined Claremont Avenue in Berkeley.

Post script: If you’re a local and this blog has whetted your interest, make your way to Personal Pizazz and let Laura know that you read about her store here. If you’re not a local but find your way to the San Francisco Bay Area, make Personal Pizazz a destination point.

*My Transitions and Transformations profile series chronicle stories of amazing women, not limited to women 50 and above, who have made inspirational and creative transitions or transformations in their lives. The series will run bi-weekly.

Vintage love: The Victorian handbag

Victorian-era handbag treasure from the Brooklyn Flea Market.

Victorian-era handbag treasure from the Brooklyn Flea Market.

Life is easy to chronicle, but bewildering to practice.
 – E.M. Forster, A Room With a View

When I found out I was going to New York to give a business presentation this past September, I knew I had to take a day off and venture to the Brooklyn Flea Market. I’d read wonderful things about the market, and as my sister, who accompanied me for the long weekend, and I made our way to the Lafayette Avenue, I had visions of vintage jewelry and clothing in my head. I was not disappointed.

Ornate silver frame and textured pigskin leather.

Ornate silver frame and textured pigskin leather.

We strategized and did a once over of the Fort Greene grounds – the market is just the right size in that there is plenty to see and a wide variety of local artisans and designers but is not too big as to be overwhelming. We came upon a stall that had the most amazing vintage handbags by Britannia Antiques. I was instantly mesmerized by a black bag that looked like something Lucy Honeychurch might carry.

It brought me back to the 1985 movie, A Room with a View, based on E.M. Forster’s Edwardian-era novel. It remains one of my favorite movies of all time, full of romance and youthful idealism. But what I also love about that era is the fashion, especially the coats with fitted waists, flared skirts, covered buttons, and notched collars, and the mens-style shirt-blouses.

Technically, the handbag was not Edwardian, which covers the years 1901 to 1919. Its tag read “Late Victorian, 1880-1900,” and was described as made of pigskin leather with a silver-plated, ornamented frame. It was in wonderful shape. I was attracted to it, but it was beyond my price point. Moreover, I thought it was too precious to carry around like a real handbag. Rather it belonged in some museum.

My sister and I made our rounds again, narrowing down the vendors whose wares we were interested in, and I came back to touch the handbag three times. At that point, the proprietor, Yvonne Potter, noticed. She approached us and pointed out that the interior was solid leather, which meant it was of high quality. Lesser versions were lined in fabric. She showed me the marking on the silver plate on the inside to let me know that she’d researched and knew its time period. She then told me to make her an offer. I’d forgotten that such deals are made at flea markets. My sister threw out a number, offered to pay for half, and the handbag sits on a bookshelf in my library, waiting to be carried out on my arm, filled with the stuff of modern conveniences – iPhone, keys attached to car alarm fobs, and so on.

Again, as with all vintage pieces, whether they be jewelry, clothing or other accessories, I wonder who the owner was, where she lived and what she did. Maybe she took the handbag with her from her native England to a tour of Italy, where passions heated up and she fell in love.

Everything is made new again.

Mixing vintage accessories and contemporary fashion.

Mixing vintage accessories and contemporary fashion.

A close-up of mixing vintage and contemporary, and faux fur, rhinestone, suede, knit, and leather.

A close-up of mixing vintage and contemporary, and faux fur, rhinestone, suede, knit, and leather.

Vintage treasure hunt: The 1960s faux fur dress

To change one’s life: Start immediately. Do it flamboyantly. No exceptions.
– William James, American psychologist and philosopher

1960s faux fur dress from Treasury (Washington, D.C.).

1960s faux fur dress from Treasury (Washington, D.C.).

A few years ago, I became interested in vintage pins when I spied a simple but striking rhinestone pin on a young woman’s sweater. When I asked her where she got it, she proudly told me it was a vintage piece. Thus began my love of all things vintage.

My neighbor, who scours garage and estate sales and flea markets, and then sells her found treasures on eBay, introduced me to the addictive world of bidding and buying collectibles. It was a short addiction from which I’ve fully recovered, but I’ve amassed a beautiful collection of pins, earrings and necklaces from the likes of Eisenberg, Miriam Haskell, Vendome, Weiss and Whiting and Davis as a result. For one of my Christmas presents, my husband David gave me Julia C. Carroll’s Collecting Costume Jewelry 202: The Basics of Dating Jewelry 1935-1980, which provided wonderful backstory to my icy rhinestone and aurora borealis rhinestone jewelry! If only, however, I knew the history of the previous owners. That would be amazing.

The love of vintage evolved into a treasure hunt to find one vintage store in any city I happened to visit, which is mostly, but not always, as a result of a business trip. In the last couple of years, I’ve happily discovered N. 3rd Street in Old City Philadelphia (home to wonderful stores such as Sugarcube); Encore in Portland, Maine; Twentieth Century Limited in Boston; the Brooklyn Flea Market; and the U Street corridor in Washington, D.C., home to Treasury, Legendary Beast and GoodWood.

I’ll blog more about these places in the future – because each store has its own charm and story – but I just wanted to put out there that the idea of a treasure hunt for whatever suits your interests in visiting cities adds additional excitement to any trip. Who doesn’t love the childlike pleasure of a hunt? What is especially enjoyable is leisurely talking with the owners and sales people and learning about their stores and the stories behind their vintage finds.

Circa 1930s traveling sewing kit from Treasury (Washington, D.C.).

Circa 1930s traveling sewing kit from Treasury (Washington, D.C.).

Today’s photos focus on finds from Treasury, which was featured by Refinery29 and is nicely curated. I looked around the store, eyed some vintage pieces, went on to other treasure-hunt destinations, and then returned to Treasury.  I spied an unusual necklace, which Ashley, the friendly salesperson, had just put out. It is a 1930s traveling sewing kit shaped as a walnut – with the original thimble, straight pins, safety pins, thread and mossy green felt lining still intact. What a find. It is in fantastic condition, which made me wonder about its owner and its 80-year journey – the care in keeping it safe and sound, or maybe it was put in a drawer or box and forgotten about for years.

Inside the 1930s traveling sewing kit - all original items still intact - from Treasury (Washington, D.C.).

Inside the 1930s traveling sewing kit – all original items still intact – from Treasury (Washington, D.C.).

The other find pays homage to the decade of my birth, the 60s, in the form of a faux fur dress, which is also in mint condition. Either the dress was well taken care of or never worn. I’ll never know, but this vintage dress – literally – has a new life with me. Referencing William James’s quote, how could one not be flamboyant in a 1960s faux fur dress?

Unsigned vintage screw-back earrings and brooch, and my mother's ring, given to her by her parents in the Philippines.

Unsigned vintage screw-back earrings and brooch, and my mother’s ring, given to her by her parents in the Philippines.