This Woman's Day

I wish I was having this woman's day. Warmed by the sun, cooled by the ocean breeze. Deeply engrossed in a compelling story. Free to put the book down and simply sit and watch the sailboats dance by. Secure in the knowledge that my ample thighs have been given a makeover of such artful, glowing brushstrokes that I am beautiful to behold. These thoughts confirmed by my companion as he returns from the cabana bar with tall drinks for two and a wink just for me.

I wish I was having this woman's day. While strolling down this lakeside path, having all the time I could possibly need to enjoy the beauty all around me, I decide to take a nap on the cool, lush grass. Wouldn't you? I shade my porcelain skin with my parasol and listen to the leaves rustle, the birds sing. I think deep thoughts like "hey, that cloud looks like an adorable baby bunny" until I drift off to sleep the sleep of a carefree child. Blissfully unaware that there is anything wrong in my world.

I wish I was having this woman's day. Or, perhaps, the day she has already had. For hours, she busied herself with creative pursuits and was satisfyingly rewarded for her efforts. Now, it is evening and she is simply waiting. For her love. For her children. For whomever it is that pleases her most to come into her beautiful room and share with her the stories of their own productive day. With nothing pressing weighing on her mind, she will give them her full attention and thoroughly enjoy their company.

Instead, I am having this woman's day. A very long string of them actually. Fragmented. Disjointed. Pulled in several directions, not sure which way to turn first. Trying to get too many unpleasant things done from a very uncomfortable chair. I really wish I had paid more attention to my hair and wardrobe just in case someone sees me here, shoulder-deep in paperwork and unexpected complications. It wouldn't have made any difference though because, look, someone has made me wear a hat. I hate hats.


Lots going on right now, Friends. Some of it pleasant and welcome, much of it disconcerting and chaotic. Daughter is home for a few months til she heads up north to a new college, a household's-worth of stuff and one naughty cat in tow. New projects in various stages of incomplete, both for our own home and a client's. The middle of a project—the part where everything's undone and messy—always makes me feel unsettled. And yet, I have no time to finish what I've started in my own house because of client work (good) and changes in my "day job" (not so good). The day job is more demanding than usual right now because the contract I've worked under for fifteen years has come to an end. Much longer work hours are required from me each week until all accounts have been audited and closed. How long will that take? 30 days? Sixty? More? And then what? Tracy needs a new job, that's what. I'd love to leave the world of claims and codes and insurance companies behind and move forward into something creative again. That's been the plan all along—work at home til daughter grows up and out then find a home and design related job that allows for part-time decorating work. Great plan, bad timing. Our current economy might make this process more difficult than I imagined but still, I'm looking forward to seeing what's out there for me. Stepping into the unknown is scary for sure, but exhilarating at the same time, right? That's what I keep telling myself anyway—"This is so exciting, isn't it?!"—a big hopeful grin masking my inner terror.

To my readers who are bloggers, if I've been absent from your comments box recently, this is why. I've been visiting you, but my brain is simply too overloaded to form thoughtful, witty remarks. To everyone reading, at the risk of seeming selfish, I'd like to instead ask for your comments. Thoughts. Advice. Direction. Help! Where, in Southern California, on the eastern edge of LA County, can a 40-something woman with loads of professionalism, design acumen and an obsession with furnishings, fabrics and finishing touches earn a regular paycheck helping people turn their houses into homes during a shaky-but-slowly-recovering economy? Any suggestions? All are welcome.

Three lovely ladies by Marie Fox, Edward Cucuel, John Maler Collier, and one amazingly accurate portrait of me by Pablo Picassso.

Blogging at its Best

In our world of fast foods,

slow foods,

whole foods

and non-foods,

it's easy to forget the many among us without enough food. Our nation's economic difficulties have left far too many people with no choice but to rely on their local food bank. The food banks in turn are stretched to their limits because of the increased need.

• In 2008, 17.1 million households were food insecure, an increase from 13.0 million households in 2007.

• Feeding America is annually providing food to 37 million Americans, including 14 million children. This is an increase of 46 percent over 2006.

• The number of children the Feeding America network serves has increased by 50 percent since 2006.

• 68 percent of pantries, 42 percent of soup kitchens, and 15 percent of emergency shelters rely solely on volunteers and have no paid staff.

• Every dollar donated to Feeding America helps provide 9 pounds of food and grocery products to men, women and children facing hunger in our country.

Today is the second annual April Food Day, founded to unite bloggers in the fight against hunger by Meg of Pigtown Design and Chris of Easy & Elegant Life. If you are in a position to aid in this fight and wish to learn how, click on the April Food Day and Feeding America logos here on this post or CLICK HERE to go directly to the Feeding America/April Food Day donations page. You may also CLICK HERE to locate a food bank in your own community that needs your help.

On this blog, I talk about the comforts and luxuries of life as I see them. I have always known, and have even written about, the comfort good food can bring, especially when shared with friends and family. However, I have never looked upon food, the ordinary ingredients of our everyday meals, as a luxury. Sure, I've had to choose a lesser cut of meat now and then or the cereal that's on sale this week instead of the box I really want, but there's always been enough, (usually far more than enough), and, thankfully, I can't imagine my life any other way. Organizations like Feeding America make my reality—where having food on my table is a given, never a luxury—a reality for those who don't live with the comfort of such security. Thanks, Meg and Chris, for giving us this opportunity. And thank you, my generous readers, for allowing me to pass it on.

Why Comfort & Luxury?

I have always been interested in how businesses got their names. Now, there's this whole world of blog names to wonder about too. I'm going to tell you about mine. I think it also says something about me and my approach to interior design, decorating and life.

...

For close to twenty years, this quote has inspired me :

"We act as though
comfort and luxury were the
chief requirements of life
when all that we need
to make us really happy is
something to be
enthusiastic about."

Charles Kingsley - English clergyman, university professor, historian and novelist

At first, it became a favorite because it represents to me the conscious effort one must make to appreciate and find enjoyment in the everyday undertakings of life. Rather than lament what we feel is missing, we should focus on what we already have, or should seek to find something, to be enthusiastic about. For some it might be caring for their home and family; for others, their job or an all-consuming hobby or cause. Material things that add to our enthusiasm for life can be anything that pleases us—simply because we possess them, regardless of price or pedigree—like a sentimental object kept on view, a collection acquired after years on the hunt, or a perfectly positioned reading chair. And, of course, we all want to be enthusiastic about the people in our lives—our loved ones and friends—without whom all the riches and possessions in the world would be meaningless.

But then, one day, while preparing myself to pursue a career in interior design, it occurred to me that, while Reverend Kingsley warns against the pursuit of “comfort" and "luxury”, they are, in fact, two things for which I happen to have great enthusiasm. This realization brought about a new interpretation of the Kingsley quote; turning it on its head while continuing to embrace its basic message. I believe that we should choose to seek comfort and luxury in our lives, most especially in our homes. I believe home should be the primary place that comforts and sustains us; that an organized, well-designed space is a desirable and attainable luxury that will enhance and energize our daily lives. Before any of us walk out the door in the morning, our homes should prepare us to face the world. At the end of the day, home should call to us, comfort us, and warmly welcome our guests. Of course, we must also appreciate what a luxury it is to have a place of our own in which to find such comfort.

In the homes of clients, just as in my own, I believe that my brand of comfort and luxury can be achieved on a real-world budget. Knowing what good design looks like, where to splurge and where to save, and how to source smartly and creatively can produce great spaces without great expense. The execution of an idea and enthusiasm for the results matter just as much, if not more, than the dollars spent. In fact, some of my best decorating and organizing ideas have been born of restricted cash flow and serendipitous discoveries. Knowing what pleases you most—whether it is bold colors and loads of accessories or a stripped-down, simplified space—is key to finding a look that feels comfortable and luxurious to you. Whatever your goals, whatever your budget, if you are my client, it is my desire to enthusiastically endeavor to bring comfort and luxury to your life.

That then is the "why" behind the name of both my business and my blog. Here on Comfort&Luxury the blog, I'll continue to show the work I do and the work of others I admire. I'll present ideas and inspiration you can apply to your spaces with or without my assistance. If you see anything you have questions about, on a new post or old, feel free to leave a comment or send an email. If you have a project you'd like my help with, read about my services on my sidebar and contact me. At the very least, I hope you'll keep reading. Because I've become pretty enthusiastic about blogging too.

Pictured above are the Reverend Charles Kingsley and American artist Jessie Willcox Smith. As a writer and illustrator, respectively, each successfully pursued their chosen career paths near the turn of the twentieth century. Those paths crossed when their considerable talents came together in a classic of children's literature : "The Water-Babies, A Fairy Tale for a Land Baby". Written by Kingsley and first published in 1863, the 1916 edition illustrated by Smith became wildly popular and a staple of children's nurseries in the decades following. The images I show here are from that book. You can see why Smith's work continues to influence modern-day illustration artists. At the end of her life, she bequeathed twelve of her original Water Babies paintings, generally acknowledged to be the best work of her prolific career, to the Library of Congress' "Cabinet of American Illustration" collection where they remain today.

Isn't it Romantic?

That he would build this

[swing arbor]


and these

[garage trellis & stone path]

and this for me

[patio pergola]

just because I asked him to?

xo

to my valentine

Comfort is. . .

. . .a cozy place to curl up with a book while, outside, it rains and rains.

Books and fireplaces and big, soft chairs are the antidotes to cold and wet.

With a companion or without,

by lamplight or by firelight,

in a quiet corner or a wide open room,

grab your favorite throw, a big stack of books and stay inside for a while.

Record rainfall. Blizzard-like conditions in our local mountains. Flooding and mudslides. Even a funnel cloud or two. Treacherous driving conditions. High winds and intermittent hail. This is quite a storm we're having in Southern California. Don't worry about me though. I'll be working right here at home. And when my work is done, I'll be curled up with a book.

Have a safe and warm weekend.



Images via Southern Accents (1), Country Living (2, 6, 7), Better Homes & Gardens (3), House Beautiful (4), HGTV (5).

Luxuries Large and Small

These lovely little luxuries are ring boxes from the Muse Collection by Charlotte Moss at London's Halcyon Days. For your dressing table, vanity or evening bag, they are "descended from the rare and beautiful enamels of 18th-century England. Prized by discerning collectors worldwide, both as tokens of taste and sentiment and as works of art, they are destined to become the antiques of the future."

Says the designer of her collection, which includes atomizers, handbag mirrors and tiny vanity trays, "I have bought these wonderful enamels as gifts, and received them as gifts, for years. It is a great pleasure and opportunity to be entrusted with creating designs for today. Once again I’ve chosen to invoke the muse - images and motifs from the lives of women who continue to inspire - myself and others."

You would be correct in assuming that these pretty little numbers come with price tags containing quite large numbers.

I received as a gift this Christmas my own tiny, shiny box. It is not fancy enamel nor is it covered in pretty patterns. It is plain, coral pink and heart-shaped. It is from the not so exclusive, one on every corner, Hallmark collection. And it is currently my most prized, sentimental and inspiring possession.

It came from my daughter and contains a photo she took of us (with the camera in her laptop) on Thanksgiving Day 2009. That's her, below, squeezing the life and love out of me. And though this box was a gift, it came at a very large price. Letting her go last year to live her own life was more difficult than anything I have done with or for or because of her in the last nineteen years of my life. But it was worth it.

I have proof in a priceless pink box.

"Every luxury must be paid for, and everything is a luxury, starting with being in this world."

Cesare Pavese, Italian poet, critic and novelist, 1908-1950

Thanks to Rosemary and her dentist's fancy magazines for the top image. It is quite a luxury to have a friend who thinks about you while waiting to get her teeth cleaned. Images and descriptions of Moss's Paris, Nantucket and New York boxes are from Halcyon Days' website. And to Katey, well, you know.

It's a doggy-dog world

In editor-speak and word-geek world, that is what's known as a "malapropism"; the act or habit of ridiculously misusing similar sounding words without bothering to consider their literal meaning. Do you know someone who swears Elton John is singing "...hold me closer, Tony Danza" even though the song's title is "Tiny Dancer"? (please don't tell me if it's you!) Even my super-smart daughter, at elementary school assemblies, would sing the song "America" in her own special way. She'd start out fine with "My country tis of thee...", but those last emphatic words in the first stanza, "Let freedom ring!", she heard as "...every dumb ring". So that's how she sang it. It didn't make any sense at all but neither does the rest of that song to most seven-year-olds.

The malapropism "It's a doggy-dog world" is a happy-sounding misinterpretation of the quite pessimistic saying "It's a dog-eat-dog world", an idiom that describes a world in which people fight only for themselves and are likely to hurt other people in the process. In business especially, it refers to the ruthless seeking out of one's own advancement no matter the expense to others. It's a life where staying ahead of the competition is much more important than how you got there.
These attitudes may have something to do with the predicament too many Americans find themselves in these days. In always striving to get more, to quickly climb the corporate ladder and stay one step ahead of the Joneses, many overextended and overestimated their abilities to remain in that world where conspicuous consumption and unprecedented returns on investments ruled. We've all been affected by our country's economic downturn in some way or another and continue to watch almost daily as unemployment, foreclosures and lost fortunes make headline news.

It might have been wise to keep in mind the words of actor, director and apparent crank, Orson Welles who said

"Living in the lap of luxury isn't bad, except that you never know when luxury is going to stand up."


A sound warning I suppose if by "lap of luxury" he meant, as is most commonly understood, always having the best of everything money can buy. Not that I wouldn't want to try that for a while. And as a designer/decorator, I like to think I know a little something about the finer things in life and how to go about acquiring them if one is so inclined. But that's not the only definition of luxury I choose to live with in my own life.

True luxury, to me, is having people in your life to love and who love you back. Having a place you're proud to call your own whether it's 800 sq ft or 8,000. Luxury is having so many choices of yummy foods to eat that you're always just a little bit over-weight. Luxury is surrounding yourself with pretty, meaningful things, even if they're not fine antiques or designer originals, and having lots and lots of books to read. It's being able to choose to play hooky from work today because you have enough money in the bank and a secure job. And having the time to take a walk just for the pleasure of it and not because you don't have any other way to get around. I don't mean to over-simplify, but I do think it's important, when times are tough for any reason, to be able to take a step back and try to be more grateful for what you have than dissatisfied by what you don't.

If these ideas of mine about the luxuries that are really important in life sound anything like your own, then welcome to my doggy-dog world! Where there's always something to be happy about even if it's just a cozy place to curl up at the end of an exhausting day spent chasing your own tail.

Images top to bottom:

"Dona Francisca Vicenta Chollet y Caballero" by Francisco Goya y Lucientes, 1806, from the collections at the Norton Simon Museum

Vintage Russian postcard, origin unknown

"Lap Dog", contemporary woodcut print by Stephen Huneck

Detail of vintage photograph via Antique Dog Photos on Flickr

Paris and her props, I mean pups, from all over the internet

"Portrait of a Lady with a Lap Dog" by Rembrandt Harmensz van Rijn, c. 1665

Bob and Katey the malapropism-prone singer, c. 2001