An ode to HomeGoods

 

A good percentage of my disposable income is spent on patterned wool rugs and vintage furniture, and I have built up a hoarder’s collection of colorful pillows and throws, artwork, frames, masks, brass hooks and interesting-yet-entirely useless items in my 5+ years of living alone. People come to my place and assume I’ve collected them in my travels over the years. My dirty secret is that most of it is from HomeGoods.

 

So naturally, I do read the HomeGoods inspiration blog designHappy to scout great finds and ideas. They just featured my living room ideas and seriously validated all the hours I’ve spent in my life trolling the clearance aisles in a trance, buying things that I absolutely do not need nor have room for in my home. I don’t know how you do it, HG, but I just can’t get enough of you.

 

You can check out the post here.

 

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Mustard sweatercoat

 

One of the best investments I made last spring was this mustard-and-black sweatercoat that I’ve been wearing everywhere. As a sweater, a coat, a dress, a blanket, an airplane pillow, you name it. I’ve done it. Every season, my friend Ashley sends me her unpublished lookbooks from her ZAMRIE line to pick out items to pre-order for the next season and whatever I buy never fails to become a closet staple. However, I should include as a disclaimer that I am partially brainwashed by Ashley – she spent a lot of time in high school talking me out of jean shorts and cutting my own hair and introduced me to a world of covetable dry-clean-only clothing and taught me to recognize a quality garment, excellent tailoring, and the offbeat, unique, and unusual things that you can only find in fashion. Like a fur hat that makes you look like a cone head, or lace-up suede wedges with cut outs and 4 inches of height.

These pictures were taken a couple of months ago in a U Street alley by my talented friend Andrew Sheppard.

 

Stealing from my sister

Meet Patty, my younger sister, style inspiration, and former roommate (we slept in neighboring twin beds for 10 years). We also shared a closet, a large walk-in with a clean separation in terms of whose side was whose although I always disregarded that rule. It’s the best closet I’ve ever had, which is ironic considering my dad’s minimalist views on wardrobes: When he moved me to college, he made the mistake of asking what was in the (enormous) Rubbermaid tub that he was struggling to lift into the trunk of the car. When I said “Shoes,” he threw it down and told I could only bring two pairs.

When I moved out of our house in Hinsdale, Patty took over that entire walk-in closet – and gained some extra space because the movers accidentally packed up a bunch of her junk (think stuffed animals, old yearbooks, NSYNC memorbilia) and shipped it with the contents of my half of the closet to my apartment in Minneapolis. The first box I unpacked contained a ‘Will You Go To Prom With Me, Patty?’ poster.

She’s made good use of all that closet space since then. When I visit, I love to see (and borrow) what she’s added to the closet – it’s usually amazing things that she’ll tell me she found at the Gap and simple separates that she wears in cool, edgy ways by adding a few quirky accessories. She’s a minimalist with great taste and my favorite closet to shop.

Lessons learned in Paris

First and foremost, Hinsdale Central High School did a much better job at preparing me for France than I thought. Lesson one: A little Franglais goes a long way. In fact, two statements made me friends, opened doors, and spread goodwill for all of America: “Je suis desolee, mais je ne parle pas Francais” and “Un autre pain au chocolat, s’il vous plait.” (Translation: “I’m sorry, but I don’t speak French” and “Another chocolate croissant, please.”) If you start any conversation by saying you don’t speak French, in French, you’re immediately given permission to speak Franglais, or English, desperate sign language, etc.

Museums, monuments, and centuries of history aside, here’s what I learned after my first week in Paris:

1) There’s nothing more natural than strolling with a two-foot-long baguette slung over your shoulder while smoking a cigarette.
2) If it’s cold, drink hot wine (vin chaud) – it’s like tea, but leaves you with a better personality and they sell it on the streets of Paris! I love it!
3) Doc Martens are back in a big way. Like, yellow patent leather high top Doc Martens. My sixth grade self feels so en vogue right now.
4) Staying on the right side of the Seine is embarassing. Rive gauche is where it is at.
5) Here in America, we’re raised to revile certain French historical figures (e.g., Marie Antoinette, Napoleon). Paris made me wish I was BFFs with both of them.
6) French do everything with style – and so do French homeless people. I walked past a particularly resourceful homeless woman who created a tent out of a tarp and a pole propped on the door handles of a shop on Rue Saint Honore. Of course, she waited until closing before setting up camp.
7) It’s impossible to get a hangover on French wine.
8) If you’re eating anything besides bread, chocolate, cheese, or ham (jambon), you’re wrong.
9) Only old ladies wear berets. And me.
10) There is always space in the cafes, and no such thing as waiting for a table: Instead, you will be stuffed in or sat (almost) on someone’s lap. I learned to take off my three coats (which by the way, worked out perfectly for my multi-climate travels) before being seated.

One final observation: Designer SARS masks are the hip new travel accessory in Asia. I kind of want one.