Summer style trends I can get behind

Satin kimonos

I’ve amassed three in the course of the past few months. Perhaps this is how wannabe manic pixie dream girls ease into their early thirties. Give it ten years and we’ll be bringing muu-muus back.

Consent signs at music festivals

At Pitchfork, I saw several signs like this, reminding everyone that day drunk does not fair game automatically make. Are consent signs the new flower crown?

From Tumblr.

The low chunky heel

Hello, beautiful.

Now city girls can actually wear some semblance of heel without snapping an ankle. Hooray! Long live our ankles!

Pattern mixing

“Rules are there ain’t no rules.”

Polka dots + flowers + stripes = crazy no more. Proof we can all just get along.

Cryptic fashion pins

This looks like a cute bag with a pin of Garth praying.

In fact, it’s Mike Diana, an underground cartoonist who was the first person in the United States to receive a conviction of artistic obscenity. I got this pin as a gift for supporting this Kickstarter documentary about his work, the case and how artistry of all stripes can survive the minefield of free speech in America.

Also, I play tennis now. So. Vogue.

Our cheap wedding RSVPs keep making my day

We didn’t want to spend much on wedding invitations. In fact, Justin preferred we do it all online.

But considering that this is only happening to us once (ringed-fingers crossed) and my sister is a professional graphic designer willing to create an invite and custom envelope free of charge, I couldn’t not have this physical representation of our nuptials.

Nuptials. See also:

  • Wedding
  • Big Day
  • Ceremony
  • Marriage
  • Union
  • Matrimonial Event

I’ve been writing for a regional wedding magazine since I was 22 (and 100% percent certain I would never get married. Typical.).

That’s 9 years of finding synonyms for wedding words I write over and over again and covering trends in the wedding biz, which is as monstrous in scope as Bride of Frankenstein’s hair.

Key takeaways imparted on me through this work include:

  • Some venues will nickel and dime the ever living frosting out of you. Ask about eve-ry-thang. Do they charge for the linens? What about cutting and serving the cake — is there an extra charge for that? Do you have to pay for the bartender’s services in addition to the alcohol? I sounded like a jaded divorcee on her third marriage asking all of this and more of my venue’s director, but now I know there will be no surprises on the final bill.
  • It’s always worth hiring a professional. For any of it. Except maybe making the centerpieces. Those you can recruit siblings, cousins and mothers for.
  • Make it your own. The best weddings and the happiest couples I’ve interviewed did what they wanted for their <insert above word of your choosing here>. Etiquette, tradition and standards be damned — or rigorously applied, if that’s what you’re into.

As I’ve pointed out before, I have a thing for snail mail. Though, who doesn’t? Unless it’s a bill, getting letters and postcards in the mail is as Santa Claus as an adult is going to get.

A box of postcards had been gathering dust in my myriad apartments’ closets since about 2012. I bought them from Anthropologie for a fluffy feature magazine article about cool things made out of books or inspired by books.

Flowers crafted from torn out pages, their words never to be read in order again. Sturdy jacket spines transformed into a hipster-approved mobile. Postcards of Penguin’s most colorful hits.

I remember getting reader hate mail for this magazine piece. Never underestimate the fury of a bored, lonely, passionate reader.

How dare books be seen as any kind of art beyond that of writing? What a crime to desiccate these tomes or admire them for their design purposes. I and people like me were to be the downfall of this great country!

But hey it was mail. Santa giveth.

I don’t know why I never threw the box of cards out after the photo shoot. A guess: I had bought them with my own starter journalist salary ( = not much) and couldn’t bear to throw away something that felt so expensive to me at the time ($40 could have bought a lot of toilet paper and Lean Cuisines).

So there they sat. And there they moved. And moved. And moved again. Until I tucked them into our latest place, deep in a desk cabinet, all set to wait out another year in the dark corners of the envelope drawer. Stories buried. Pandora’s box on PTO.

It’s not like I didn’t try to use them before this. But whenever I’d effort to make a selection, I’d be overcome by their beauty and selfishly wish to keep them to myself. Or I’d fear their hidden messages could accidentally offend.

Because, in typical Millennial milieu, I don’t know much about what these postcards actually represent, what the books were about — I just loved their jacket covers, the colors and the style, and what they could mean symbolically. I love books, after all. Just not these ones. Most of them remained a mystery to me.

I feared sending a grandparent, for example, a postcard with a seemingly innocuous book title and pretty cover print only to find it’s about repopulating Mars and all the wooing, weird and wetness that would entail. A book that perhaps caused a scandal in their day! Too big a risk.

But as we planned our wedding invitations to one of our three events (ugh I know… we’re those people… ceremony in Chicago, two parties in our Ohio hometowns), the box of Penguin postcards nagged the back of my brain.

How fun would those be as RSVPs? (Also, how deliciously free.) A “love story” theme for our Marion reception? Sure, they didn’t match the beautiful invitations my sister made, but what have I learned? Do what you want. It’s your wedding after all.

I knew I risked someone reading too much into a title. I was selective.

Some postcard titles that didn’t make the wedding RSVP cut:

  • The Horizontal Man
  • The Lost Girl
  • Dreadful Summit
  • Middlesex (awkward)
  • Flying Dutchman (sounded like a slang sex position… also awkward)
  • Vile Bodies
  • Man Trap (ha!)
  • Warfare by Words
  • The Case of the Half-Awakened Wife (I’m woke!)

As Justin compiled his reception’s Facebook invites, I formed a factory line for mine, thoughtfully choosing a postcard for each invitation and working my tongue dry with envelope sealing, like a kitten who got into the salt lick.

Keying and creaking open my rusty mailbox the past month has been a joy. Bronte and Austin and Fitzgerald await. Sixties style art reproductions stand at attention beside desperate credit card offers and Bed Bath & Beyond coupons.

My reception guests respond exactly as I expect each of them to — some add stickers and drawings to the postcards, others just tell me their guest count and sign their name. Some get so excited they forget to sign it. Luckily I remember which postcard I picked for them and know who of my friends would forget to sign a postcard they sent. (To be fair, I would forget too. That’s probably why we’re friends.)

It felt good to get rid of the postcards, to use them in some productive way. But as a buddy pointed out: Technically, I didn’t get rid of them.

Like bookish boomerangs, back they come. To sit in my drawers for another six or seven years. But with my own story, my own favorite characters now imprinted on them.

Words on the Street: July 20, 2017

A CTA and a directive in one smart sentence. Napkins are so helpful.

That’s a new one to me. So says Oxford: “A red, plum-sized tropical fruit with soft spines and a slightly acidic taste. Early 18th century, from Malay ramutan, from rambut ‘hair,’ with allusion to the fruit’s spines.” Heh. Ram butt.

This image alludes to most of the writing I’ve been doing the past week. That of thank you notes. I like imagining what a “well-managed forest” looks like. The rabbits have daily staff meetings and the oaks delegate responsibilities fairly.

Mmm-hmm. Outside a vet’s office outside Chicago’s River North.

“Home is where you dive into a novel.” It’s also where you dream of being while waiting at this bus stop, trying to distract yourself with said novel.

“Made with water, barley and hops. Anything more would be like putting ketchup on a hot dog.” For those of you who don’t know, putting ketchup on a hot dog is a mortal sin to legit, born-and-raised Chicagoans. Definite regional copywriting win.

Words on the Street: July 6, 2017

Same. Cleveland.

A bus stop in Cleveland’s Birdtown. Poetry and quotes about birds.

The Crowd Theater bathroom reminder. Chicago.

“Owner/Mule”. Barroco in Cleveland. A MUST.

“Full of Character[s]”. Advertisement for a suburb hanging in downtown Chicago. I get the community theater aspect but its promise of characters rang flat considering the man in the furry outfit across the street while I took this photo. You want characters, stay in the city.

Hole. Irving Park. FYI.

Yes, Virginia, there is an American Writers Museum

It’s in Chicago’s Loop with an entrance that’s hard to find on Google Maps. Instead, follow that old book scent. Or just look for this sign on Michigan Avenue.

After you finish gawking at the books on the ceiling, begin your life-affirming trip through the The American Writers Museum in a long hallway of the country’s great crits, conservationists, comedians, cooks and cultural contributors.

Along one side is a timeline of American history to put in context the row of authors below. Descriptions of their life and work explain how they shaped our country’s consciousness. Interactive displays include a touchscreen of literary academics talking about the recurring themes in American writing and, a favorite, a display of materials described in “Little House on the Prairie” (fox fur, calico, etc.) that you can touch.

The other side of the hallway offers boxes with names of some of the most influential writing in American history.

Flip the boxes around to smell Julia Child’s chocolate chip cookies, hear an “Oh! Susanna” refrain, listen to a presidential speech or find a new fact about one of your favorite writers.

Have Tupac stuck in your head the rest of the exhibit.

A Word Waterfall explores the range of American identity and injustice.

A special exhibit showcases Kerouac’s famous scroll that became “On the Road.”

Quotes remind you you’re not writing and maybe should when you get back home. But it’s cool you tried to be human for once.

Get inspired by the room of Chicago writers and literary heroes.

Find out what you have in common with famous writers. Here’s mine. Not listed: A constant insecure ache that our writing sucks and also addiction issues!

Discover your state’s most iconic writers on an interactive display (Lorraine Hansberry FTW).

Take home a bookmark with a shoutout to your state writer… or the one with the quote you like best.

Cry like the big baby you are in the kids’ book gallery and promise yourself to get a copy of “Where the Wild Things Are” for your home library.

Check out the gift store.

Plan a date to go back because you have so much left to read about!

Inspo: A writer’s podcast, new books, and words on the street

“10 Minute Writer’s Workshop”

This podcast published by the New Hampshire Public Radio is my new commute boost. It’s exactly what it sounds like: 10 minutes of writer talk. Each episode features a brief interview with a writer — from an LL Bean catalog writer to a best selling novelist to a TV screenwriter to Patti Freaking Smith — where they ask questions like “What’s your writing routine?” and “Dear god, how do I get as prolific as you?”

My favorite so far has been the interview with short story writer Ottessa Moshfegh.

On getting off social media:

“I think privacy and self protection from the garbage all around us is really important to a writer, especially starting out, when you don’t have those natural filters.”

Check out all the episodes here.

New books

This book, “Books for Living” by Will Schwalbe, was a gift from my brother, a librarian in Ohio. The book is a compilation of essays about Schwalbe’s favorite books and what he has learned about life from each of them. It’s a wonderful reminder of why reading is so, well, also wonderful. It’s always interesting to hear why someone likes a book you also liked and see how they got something different out of it than you did. Shout out to my BFF for the sweet Frida birthday bookmark. Do my people know me or what?

This one’s a library rental so I can’t highlight, but how real is this:

“He pressed her nose against her hair and breathed in her school smell, a smell like the flavor of a postage stamp.

Michael Chabon’s “Moonglow” is full of showstoppers like this. It’s why he’s a giant.

I wish to swim in all his sentences.

Words on the street

Sometimes the truth is louder as words. Here’s to basic, bold statements…

Inspo: Making Mainbocher, “LaRose” and words on the street

Mainbocher exhibit at the Chicago History Museum

Mainbocher was a Chicago boy who eventually became America’s first couturier. (Couturier is a word I had to Google before I went to this exhibit and it means he was America’s first “fashion designer who manufactures and sells clothes that have been tailored to a client’s specific requirements and measurements.” But not, like, clothes for the basic classes. Think more like Gloria Vanderbilt, of whom he was a fave.)

Mainbocher’s also famous for designing for the Girl Scouts and the uniforms for the WAVES, the volunteer women’s naval reserve of WWII. The WAVES were the first military women to be paid the same as their male counterparts, and part of the appeal of being a WAVE was getting a tailor made designer uniform, which sounds kind of dumb now but was a big deal post-Depression, pre-fast fashion.

Mainbocher didn’t want to be paid anything for these designs, considering it part of his duty as an American. However, all government contracts required payment of some kind. So Mainbocher charged the US Navy exactly $1.

The Chicago History Museum’s “Making Mainbocher” exhibit included a one-night showing of “Homefront Heroines: The WAVES of WWII,” a documentary with interviews starring these interesting women and incredible old footage from their training and work. I loved hearing about what drove them to volunteer for the WAVES–a need for adventure, a sense of independence, a longing to see more than their hometowns, a want for life beyond desk or house work. The strings that pulled them then seem like the same kind wrapped into women like me decades upon decades later. Beyond admiring them, I get these girls.

Director Kathleen Ryan discusses the making of the film with CHM curator of costume Petra Slinkard.

“LaRose” by Louise Erdrich

Currently reading: “LaRose,” the aching story of two families affected by one tragedy and an old native American tradition that might help them heal. Erdrich is a fantastic writer, obviously, and I’m so moved by the way she’s able to make transitions in this novel. I feel like I’m in a dream when I’m reading–or a nightmare, maybe, considering the story. There’s a lot of dialogue, but she never uses quotes, which adds to the steady but unusual flow of things.

While researching the bookstore she runs with her daughters, I found this, her blog. She writes about what she’s reading and manages to make even those small sentiments feel otherworldly:

After reading The Hidden Life of Trees, by Peter Wohlleben, my daily walks are an entirely different experience.  I see the details of a tree’s struggle, the tree’s heroic attempt to repair a slashed limb, to repel invaders, or how so often a root flare buried by a careless landscaper will eventually suffocate the strongest.  I see how hard it is to live on a boulevard and not in a forest composed of  myriad types of tree with a magical underground connection that can choose to harden against invaders or to sustain young trees with extra food. “The Hidden Life of Trees” is a marvel of understanding and science.

Words on the street

As seen at Goddess and Grocer in River North. Just cute. Happy Valentine’s and Galentine’s Day! Say more with cupcakes.

For those of you who don’t have a city subway, spots like this are located on train platforms. They are where you stand to stay warm (or at least warmer than you would be otherwise) courtesy the heat lamps overhead. That’s why the copy on this Salvation Army ad is so effective. Literally, this is where to stand if you need a place to stay warm, but it also lists the address of the closest Salvation Army, where a person who is homeless for the night can get even warmer. Subtle. Strong. Emotional but informative.

OK, this seems simple but I’ve never seen it before, maybe because I usually go to Facebook to see a location’s hours since I always know where to find it. The hours for the Museum of Science and Industry’s are listed on the hero banner of its home page. So smart. And if the museum has already closed for the day? Then it shows tomorrow’s hours. That’s so helpful, especially when Google or Facebook aren’t updated with holiday hours. This is a great example of copy information users need worked smartly into web design.