Miguelina

Peonies Watch

So, this year's Spring garden left a lot to be desired -- no special post went up because I was too damned sick with allergies and whatnot to actually enjoy the flowers. So here, all you get is a shot of some potted gardenias I've plopped next to the garage:

We're pretty much overcome with weeds at this point, and since I have a very difficult time bending over to reach them I've told myself I'm pretty much over the glamour of gardening.  But then I noticed a curious thing:

My peonies! They're coming to life!

I planted this peony bush two years ago, and it has never flowered. In fact, last summer it "died" because I never watered it. I read somewhere that it takes up to five years for a peony to take root, and since they're my favorite flowers I was willing to take the chance.  So imagine my surprise to see the emerging blooms on my plucky little shrub. I'm not going to lie, I was excited.

The next day, I was rewarded with this:

I can't believe I planted this thing. I watered it (sometimes), and let's face it, neglected it, for two years -- and finally, FINALLY, my patience is being rewarded.

I love peonies, and not only because their name lends itself to bad puns.  I love how big and extravagant they are, I love their fragrance, I love them in centerpieces, and I love that they only bloom in June. They're the perfect middle-of-the-year pick-me up.

Edelweiss...Edelweiss...

Happy cow at a national park in Styria. Or was it lower Austria? In any case, it was singing and prancing about joyously. It's good to be a cow in Austria.

We just got back from Austria.

Are you sick of hearing about it? Of course you are! I'm sick of hearing about it. But here I am, four days after the trip has ended, and I'm completely stuck. I haven't unpacked, I haven't started working at my new job (another story for another day), I have yet to make plans to see my friends. I'm not sure that the reason I'm so inert is my not blogging about the trip, but it makes for a convenient excuse to procrastinate the whole getting-on-with-real-life part of returning from vacation.

So here it goes, the 2008 version of a vacation slide show:

We stumbled upon a real-live-for-serious-not-at-all-ironic dirndl and lederhosen fashion show. Awesome.

My husband will absolutely kill me for saying this, but a lot of Austria is exactly like The Sound of Music - green and lush and filled with people proudly wearing their lederhosen and dirndl - usually at village festivals (we went to a couple of them, one in Schoenberg and the apricot festival - marillenfest - in Krems.) I think this is beyond awesome and proudly dressed my oldest in the lederhosen his grandparents sent to him whenever the weather was warm enough - he fit right in. (Note to my fellow Americans: Traditional dress is cool, but not in Vienna. FYI.)

Why are Austrian weeds so damn pretty? All we get is crabgrass. (Grazing horses, Bad Tatzmannsdorf)

It's a country full of contrasts: You find religious imagery everywhere - in the country, where farmers erect crucifixes and statues of saints so that their crops will be abundant, in tunnels to protect travelers, in forests:

We stumbled upon this beautiful crucifix while visiting the Graselhohle, but then you're just as likely to stumble into a sex shop at the most odd (at least to a Bostonian) places, like oh, let's say right next to the duty-free shop at the airport:

Mmmmkay. Moving on...

I loved so many things about this trip. I loved that we stayed at a guesthouse run by nuns, who were kind and gave us homemade bread and warm milk to help the kids sleep, but whose guestrooms had tiny little tvs with access to porn channels (are you noticing a trend?), I loved that my kids got to play in a castle with the kids that actually live there. (We also got a private tour, but the kids were much more interested in jumping on the trampoline in the courtyard than in the amazing history of the place.)

Bust most of all? I loved Vienna.

No surprise there. Everybody does. In my opinion it's the most romantic and manageable of the world capitals, and absolutely everything is done on a grand scale here; from coffeehouses:

Cafe Central, 1st district - It certainly put Dunkin' Donuts to shame.

to changing tables:

Hotel Sacher. Leather, velvet, wood and gold tassels. All so you can wipe baby butt in imperial style.

It's my kind of town - even if the Viennese are natural-born complainers. I'm not badmouthing anyone here - they're proud of their curmudgery and will tell you themselves. For instance, try telling them that their city is amazingly beautiful, and they'll tell you that it's old and you're not allowed to build anything new. Tell them you like the food, "Bof!" they'll say, "it's always the same!" My advice to future travelers is to not take this negativity personally. It's truly part of their charm. One you have dinner with a group of Viennese you will understand why Sigmund Freud couldn't have existed in a different city.

(By the way, the Freud Museum in the 9th district is a must see. The sight of the waiting room and Freud's own personal stuff was pretty amazing. To think of all the neurosis that brewed there! Did I ever mention that I'm a dork?)

In any case, we go to Vienna pretty often because we want to visit family, so I make it a point to do something new and embarrasingly touristy (at least to my husband) every visit. This time I said that "the boys" (ahem) really, really wanted to ride in those pretty horse-drawn carriages.

"You mean a fiacre? Like the gullible tourists do?"

"Yes."

"You know, sometimes the horses go crazy. Once a Japanese tourist was injured, almost mortally."

"So? We drive in Boston. I can take it."

So off we went and found the most adorable black and white carriage pulled by a pair of horses I called "the Kennedys" (Jack and John) and driven by the sweetest girl named Isabela.

Here they are:

And here are some of the many wonderful sights we saw -

My imaginary Viennese apartment:

Grand balconies:

And then just repeat this scene 167 times. You get the idea.

The one truly cultural thing we did was catch an exhibit called "Bad Painting, Good Art." With a name like that, how could we not? It was hilarious:

And just awful:

And sometimes? It was actually pretty good:

"You see that?" I said to my three-year old. "If you don't work hard at all on your art, someday your paintings could be displayed in a grand museum, just like these!"

Now, I made sure I didn't put too much pressure on him. I wouldn't want him to end up with some "Freudian" issues. He is half-Viennese after all.

Goodbye Austria! Thanks for all the Gruner Veltliner!

You say you want a revolution? Here you go:

This is a brilliant idea and, like most ideas that have the potential to change the world, it wasn't mine. Dammit.

I was going to kick myself for not coming up with this first, but I decided to spread the word instead. I'll let The Elegantologist explain:

June 7th, 2008 will mark the 230th anniversary of Beau Brummell’s birth. I propose that the 4,000 - 6,000 readers I have mark the event with a day of celebration of personal style. Our mis-en-scene will be the world at large. 

Make it a point to gather several well-dressed friends (the more the merrier) and head for a local watering hole, museum, theatre or other public venue. Dress better than you have to. En mass, a statement will be made. Beauty will be in the eyes of the beholders and maybe, just maybe, someone will think it’s a movement. The news media will pick up on the sudden reëmergence of elegance. Strangers will be compelled to rethink the day’s shabby wardrobe choices. Long dormant manners will see the light of day. Heads will turn and polite smiles will be exchanged.

JUNE 7, 2008 - Mark your calendars. Have fun and be fabulous! I can't wait!

Coco

In order to be irreplaceable one must always be different. - Coco Chanel

This is my favorite photo of Coco Chanel. I love the cool confidence in her eyes, her carefully styled hair, the creamy strands of pearls casually piled up on her shoulders. Heck, I even like the way she's defiantly pointing her cigarette at us, daring us to question her.

It's a photograph of a woman who has confidence - in her intelligence, her taste, her femininity. The picture of a lady in her lipstick and pearls, she's also as cuddly as a porcupine. The magic of being a girl is that you can run the world in earrings and heels, if you choose.

It's a beautiful picture and, in my eyes, it's enhanced by the obvious colorization. I love colorized photos! They're much more honest than the photo-shopped atrocities that get passed on as the truth nowadays. We all know that no living human being is actually that flawless in appearance - the colorization is more art than journalism, although when I was little I thought that the past really was saturated in color.

Here's the non-colorized picture. It's still beautiful, just not as striking:

Elegance is refusal. - Coco Chanel

Chanel's life story is quite interesting, and while she made some questionable choices, I think that the essence of her story is inspiring. How she became an orphan and learned to sew from the nuns who raised her. How she rebelled and became a cabaret singer (which earned her the "Coco" nickname). How the rich women around her mocked her for being skinny in a time when voluptuousness was the ideal, and for not wearing the expensive and complicated clothes that were fashionable at the time.

How instead of striving for what she couldn't have, she made the most with what she did. When a wealthy suitor offered her anything she wanted, she opted for a lease instead of diamonds. How she opened her shop, and designed clothes made out of inexpensive and wearable materials that would fit and flatter her skinny frame. How her famous "little black dress" was inspired by the shapeless frocks of the nuns from that orphanage from so long ago. How she freed women from the corseted and petticoated clothes she was supposed to aspire to.

The most courageous act is still to think for yourself. Aloud. - Coco Chanel

The photo above is from the same 1936 photoshoot. I like that picture too because it shows a less stylized, more relaxed Chanel. She was in her fifties by then, and while I love the colorized and airbrushed photo I also appreciate the beauty of reality.

More photos and quotes after the jump

(Photo credits: Parisenimage)

Call me Mrs. Dalloway...

Today, we're throwing my second favorite type of party: A dinner party for new friends (my favorite party is, of course, a dinner party for old friends - with luck our new friends will soon be part of that category.) I'm in the midst of dusting, mopping and opening windows to let in the new spring air - but mostly I'm putting off the inevitable trip to the grocery store.

(Grocery shopping is a fool's errand if you ask me. Hate!)

I don't like surprises, so when I entertain I cook the same things I make for dinner on a regular basis - what makes it special is the presentation and the addition of appetizers and a nice dessert. (Oh, let's face it - the increased consumption of alcohol helps too!) But the actual cooking needs to be stress-free, because I like to enjoy myself at my own party.

The March issue of Everyday Food has a recipe for Balsamic Skirt Steak with Polenta and Roasted Tomatoes that has become a favorite dinner for us. The recipe's not up on the magazine's website, but thanks to the power of Google I found a blogger who posted the recipe with step by step pictures - look at how easy Dining Alone makes it look!

I highly recommend you try making it - it's super easy and the end result is delicious. It's a good mix of light and satisfying. Our local grocery chain doesn't have skirt steak, so I make it with steak tips and it's still awesome.

I'll probably put out some bread, cheese, olives, and figs to niggle on while I cook and we'll have something made with chocolate and raspberries for dessert. Before having kids I would've baked something the day before, but with two little boys running around I think it's best I leave it to the pros. The Ipod is loaded with my beloved Pink Martini and Louis Armstrong - I think we're ready to go!

Wishing everyone a happy Saturday!

How to enjoy women

Whenever I meet a woman that claims to not get along with other women I run the other way. Not out of fear, mind you - the truth is I feel sorry for women like that. There is nothing more pathetic than to say that you hate women when you are guilty of being one yourself.

Women that say this usually declare this proudly, as if it were a badge of honor. Sadly, it's not even a unique thing to say. Look, we've all had to deal with mean girls (don't I know it!) but you're not being fair to yourself when you tell anyone that will listen that all women are vicious creatures out to hurt one another in the name of competition.* Because, really, is that all you think of yourself? And your mother?

Men are great; they really are quite the extraordinary creatures. But they are best enjoyed one at a time - and if you're married you've made a promise to do exactly that. On the other hand, as a woman you're afforded the luxury of enjoying the company of as many strong, gorgeous, powerful, stylish, brilliant women as you can find. There's no way you can "cheat" on a girl-friend - in fact, I find that it's best not to become too dependent on one woman for all you friendship needs.

The more the merrier, I say.

But how do you find these women? What if you're a recovering girl-hater?

The one where I break up with Pottery Barn

I'm overwhelmed by the task of decorating our house: I want it to be a comfortable place to entertain, a happy home for our children to grow up in, a beautiful place to live our lives. Of course, those high expectations have done nothing but paralyze me. That's my excuse for why my living room has looked like this for the better part of a year:

It doesn't help that I have a love-hate relationship with shopping and the general buying of stuff. I hate the actual "going" part of shopping (wandering aimlessly in a mall - OMG KILL ME NOW!), but when I do need to buy something I absolutely DESPISE spending my hard-earned money on junk.  I  like to surround myself with pretty things and will pay for quality - mostly so that I won't have to go shopping to replace things anytime soon.

What to do?

Well, one way I get around that is to look at catalogs. They're convenient, portable and are filled with pretty pictures. Add to that the fact that we moved into a house that's approximately three times as big as our old apartment, and that equals the very real possibility that I would eventually end up buying something from Pottery Barn. And if you live anywhere in the United States, you already get 3 copies of the same Pottery Barn catalog at least twice a month, so why not flip through them before recycling them?

(That's how they get us! We're powerless against Pottery Barn and their relentless catalogs!)

We moved into this house last May, and at the time I was still filled with enthusiasm for the whole decorating process. My first task was to buy a kitchen table and four chairs. Easy enough, right? I needed a place where the four of us could eat breakfast, that would fold out of the way when we needed the space, and that was easy to wipe down when the kids spilled their milk. (Which happens EVERY DAMN time we sit at the table.)

I was thrilled when I saw this table in the Pottery Barn catalog:

(Photo from potterybarn.com)

A simple,cute-enough table that folds:

I've FINALLY decided!

And I made a button to celebrate:

Here's the code if you want one.

Pretty useful: How to tie a Tiffany bow

I once decided that I needed to learn how to tie a a Tiffany bow. This might seem like a frivolous quest but I figured, why not learn to do it the right way? So I walked into Tiffany's and asked for help.

Believe it or not, the nice saleslady actually taught me. Now I'll save you the trip and teach you how to do it. It's really easy once you know how.

Step 1

Gather your materials. You'll need:

1) a box

2) nice silky ribbon (I usually cut enough to go around the box about two-and-half times)

3) scissors

Step 2

Leaving at least a box's length of ribbon at the bottom of the box, place the ribbon at the center of the top of the box and hold with your thumb. Like this:

Step 3

Wrap the ribbon once around the box. Place the second piece of ribbon under your thumb as well:

Step 4

Fold the ribbon over your thumb to go around the box at a 45 degree angle:

Step 5

Keep going...

Step 6

...until you go around once: 

Now, the step coming up is actually the most important one of the process - if you screw up this step the bow won't work - but don't worry, it's an easy step. Ready?

All you need is 10 minutes

Janet over at Slice of Pink is one of my favorite bloggers - she's clever ("the audacity of pink"? Genius!), has impeccable taste and seems like a really lovely person to boot. She also has great ideas all the time - like her New Year's Resolution, which is to clean for just 10 minutes but to do it without any distractions (and every day).

Simple solutions like that make me happy.

Yes, I know it's basically the Flylady system, and thankfully my house is pretty clean most days, so I'm not about to start cleaning for 10 minutes a day on top of my regular housekeeping system (um, maintain a minimum amount of chaos before the cleaners come - shh!) but her post reminded me that you can get anything done in 10 minutes - of you set a timer and focus.

Maybe it's time to start putting those pictures into albums?