subway soiree

I am standing on the platform at 23rd street eating a rose macaron, my favorite flavor from my most adored cafe. Whenever I have something to celebrate, I turn to this particular rose macaron. I find myself visiting this cafe quite often, dedicating a macaron to relationship milestones, personal achievements such as making a new friend or even bad days, the irony of honoring the survival of a particularly hellish 12 hours. 

I finish my macaron and shift my bag from one shoulder to the next, careful not to crush the neat stack of papers that signify a new professional beginning. The bottle of champagne, a gift from a colleague, was not intended for this particular celebration but just maybe. It’s cold enough that I can see my breath but not cold enough to make me want to hibernate. However, It’s hard to tell when my body is pulsing with equal parts of excitement and fear. 

The news is sacred and precious to me in this moment. I am doing normal New York things but I feel anything but normal. I look around at others standing with me on the platform thinking somehow they know what’s in my bag and understand that I’ve just been handed a fresh start and a new aspiration. The train pulls into the station and I step into my car wishing for one more rose macaron but quickly reminding myself not to overdo it, not to jinx my ambitious undertaking.

be a body

 Our bodies betray us.

We get sick, hurt, ache and tremor. Are our bodies a reflection of our minds or are they an individual entity which can only be helped and pushed in a way that may or may not stand the test of time?

I have always thought of my body as a reflection of my emotional self. I feel strongest mind and body when I'm physically fit. I'm strong in body, I'm strong in mind. I tear into my body in an attempt to break it down and build it back up. I've always been athletic and set tests for myself that were both strenuous and exhausting. I used to fly through the air in cheerleading and gymnastics. I would ask my lungs to expand to great capacity by running until my legs gave out from underneath me. I twist and bend and challenge my limbs to hold me steady and still as I change poses in yoga. But when my body betrays me, my mind usually follows.

There are things that are out of our control. Neck aches that steam from stress, broken bones due to accidents, pins and needles in joints and headaches that pulse to great extremes. I have to trust my body to take me to the place I need to go but what if it cannot?

I work on my body as if it were a machine. Certain parts need replaced or fixed up - dents and nicks worked out of its exterior, a new valve, whatever. The part that is at the center, my engine, my heart always needs the most work. 

For over a year now I've been very quiet when the yoga teacher asks if there are any requests in class. Now I can clearly identify that I need constant attention to my heart. I ask for chest openers. I trust that my body will hold me, I question my heart. Because when my heart fails me, my body follows. Just as an engine fails, the rest of the machine cannot complete it's task. I'm understanding that working on my exterior is actually making my interior stronger.

less is more

I awoke from the sun beaming in from outside. A cool fall breeze from the window and in the arms of a man who loves me very much and all I could do was whine and complain.

I had no makeup, deodorant, clean clothes, face wash, comfortable shoes. My head hurt, my arm hurt from a flu vaccine days prior, my jaw sore from my apparent teeth grinding sleep. I could hear how annoying, bratty and selfish I sounded but I kept going on and on. Why was the sun so bright and why did the landlord choose Saturday morning to replace the siding (this was the only fair complaint since they began hammering at 8am). Chris, my boyfriend who spoiled me with a movie and dinner the night prior, listened and didn't interrupt as I went on and on. After a pause in my banter, mostly because I was probably looking for other things to bitch about he simple said, "Maybe you need too many things."

I fired back that I didn't think clean underwear was too much to ask but throughout the day and entire weekend the question stuck with me - do I really need so much?

With the change of the season I've found myself wanted more things. Hats, shoes, gadgets, beauty products, jewelry, everything really. I want these times but what is more alarming is that I feel I deserve these things. Why a $60 candle? Well because I earned it. I work hard goddammit so if I want my room to smell like one big fancy rose, so be it. When I come back down to earth I realize how stupid that line of reasoning is. You know what I really need? A big reality check.

I need the basics. Food, water, shelter and a job. I do not need $25 lipstick, $60 candles or an $800 watch. I have plenty of clothes to layer for the fall and winter, a heavy jacket, a hat, a cabinet of soup and to be honest, too much lipstick already. Having all I need is a blessing I seem to lose touch with all too often. My ego gets the best of me and the situation, convincing me that these things will somehow improve my life quality. What will however is wanted less. A current yoga lesson brought up the idea of taking less. Taking only what you need so there is more for everyone around you. Why does that sound so simple and easy but when I'm standing in the middle of Bloomingdale's I have this incredible pressure that if I do not have that DVF scarf that would mean no groceries for two weeks that I can't keep it in the front of my mind?

So it begins - the constant mantra of needing and wanting less. Taking what I have and seeing it all as blessings rather than burdens. And most of all to stop whining so much. No one wants to hear that.

anonymous design

When I was younger and still living with my parents I always thought in situations that didn't please me, "I will remember this for my own kids, I will never do that to them." Even then I knew I was being dramatic and usually I was able to see the point they were trying to make. Now that I'm at the old age of 25 I'm thinking about that situation in a different light. I'm talking about a situation that I bet 99% of designers face. The "when I'm an art director/creative director I will never do that to my designers/team" situation.

Have you ever had one of your bosses/managers/directors do something or say something that either made you want to fall to the floor in tears in frustration or hurl a desk across the room in anger? It's not criticism I'm talking about. I'm talking about owning your work and getting credit where credit is due. Let me set the scene for you.

It's understood that when you work for a brand that you will not be able to sign your work like a painter or sculptor would. You acknowledge that you work for Company X and that Company X will (hopefully) get praised for the project you slaved and obsessed over. Your name will not appear at the end of the commercial, at the bottom poster, on the lower right hand corner of the box. But throughout the company and to those in the industry, you will shine. How naive for a young designer like myself to think. I never realized how hurtful taking credit for the work of others could be until I had been in both situations.

As I stood in front of my concepts and designs this week in front of first my art director, then my senior director, then my marketing director and still more directors and presidents to follow I realized something. Those "fall to the floor in tears" situations swing both ways. Both when someone takes complete credit for the designs you've created and when someone 2, 3 or 4 levels above you looks you straight in the eye and says, "Wow. Wonderful. These are great." They pull others over, they talk about you in other meetings, they are happy that you are there to be a part of their team. Learning from now both situations I am putting this in the back of my head for when I reach my own design dream job as an art director one day.

Give credit to where credit is do. Celebrate those who did the work. Acknowledge their work. You have no idea how beat down you can get when the opposite happens.

I left work and cried. Out of relief. Out of complete happiness. The moment where my art director pointed to me when her boss asked who had worked on the concept. You have no idea how grateful I was for that moment. Those moments make me want to push forward even harder, to really shine even brighter next time. You could have hated it all but the fact that you said it was my work went above and beyond. Thank you.

collector's edition

How do you note your life? Do you scrapbook, keep a journal or take tons of photos? I am a collector. I wish I had time for a scrapbook, the patience and eye for photography and while I do keep a journal, it's full of writing but lacks visuals. Open my bedside table and you will find several small boxes. These boxes contain various clips from places and moments. Rather than getting caught up in how to perfectly display vacations, weekend events and everyday treasures, these small boxes allow me to easily keep things that I love in one place. Below is an example of what you might find if you spy into these small boxes which are adornments in themselves;

Boxes - perfume, jewelry and candy. Part of being a designer is being in awe of perfect printing techniques and new and different constructions of various containers. Even these boxes were selected carefully to keep my items safe.

Tickets - movie, train, plane, social event, sporting event, museum, etc. Events that shaped moments and memories special and unforgettable to me. Looking at these make me remember those past places, events and people I shared them with.

Perfume Slips - papers, tabs, stems and ribbons. I've always been obsessed with smells which trigger memories for me so easily.

Notes - friends, boyfriends, girlfriends, family and strangers: Things to remind myself how wonderful the people in my life are, present and past.

Tags - clothing, ribbon and gift certificates. Again a design obsession with printing, packing and branding.

Mini Perfume Bottles - I don't have nearly enough of these but I do love them.

Et Cetera - Matchbooks, business cards, specialty papers, fortune cookie slips, stickers, magazine clips of wanted wardrobe items or hair and makeup how-to's and random 3D objects such as a worry doll, animals, buttons and beads.

Maybe you have one of these boxes too. Some of your might refer to this as your "junk drawer" but mine's a bit to organized and contained to be labeled as such. Ideally I'd like to transfer all of these items into a vintage trunk to be kept in my home. But without the trunk or space currently, these boxes will have to do.

L&L

I've been working like a mad woman lately and feel like I have been living at the office. The only things that keep me going are that 80% of my clients are awesome and that when things come back from print I get to gush my little heart out. I stop from time to time to pull inspiration to keep for those moments where my brain freezes up and I need visual stimulation to reboot. Today is lingerie and Luxe's city guides. I really dig this girls hair and her awkward stance. The Luxe books are so simply designed but so eye catching and iconic. {heart}

anything you can do, i can do better

I see it in magazines and on the street. I do it in my apartment but always chicken out last minute. I'm talking about shorts with tights! I love the look on everyone else but never thought I could pull it off myself. Today is a new day and I was feeling quite adventurous while getting dressed this morning. After a quick phone google of 'shorts with tights' I found my inspiration, threw together an ensemble and out the door I went. Olivia Palermo twist back hair to polish off the look! Happy Thursday. I'll try to follow up with a photo of my own outfit! :)

they're young, they're in love, they rob banks

Halloween this year will be inspired by Bonnie and Clyde. The attitude, the fashion, the beauty and the hardness of the 30s. I can't wait to go vintage shopping for this one. I'll be hitting up Edith Machinist (on Rivington) and Family Jewels (on West 23rd) both in Manhattan. If you have any other vintage stores to recommend, drop me a comment, I'd love to hear! :)