Storing and Displaying My Accessories

It’s been eight and a half years since I shared how I stored my accessories. Things have changed since spring of 2008. My style has evolved, trends have come and gone, and I moved to California.


May 2008 and November 2016
How am I storing and displaying my accessories, now?

Rings
I have about 20 rings, now, including four engagement/wedding rings from Beefy. I store most of them on a glass or wooden hand form on my dresser. Some of the larger rings (like the mushroom ring) are in a small dish.



Pins and Brooches
My brooch collection is much smaller than it used to be, and I no longer store them pinned to a strip of fabric on the back of a closet door. Instead, the brooches nestle in a woven box and the pins (mostly Disney) rest in a silver dish on top of my dresser.


Bracelets
My closet tour video was made in January 2010, at the height of the arm party trend. I stored my large bracelet collection on the points of a set of antlers, as seen in the video. Eventually, the weight of the jewelry started to separate the antlers from their mounting, so I moved the bracelets to a glass jar. Now, I mostly find bracelets annoying, so only a few remain in the jar and the rest of the space is filled with string lights. A couple of the nicer pieces rest in a tray near the hand forms.

Earrings
I used to store my earrings in a box with an internal divider, but I prefer to have them on display. Now, they hang on two pieces of metal and wire art. The birds and flowers pictured in the art needed a little flair.


I still store small, post-style earrings in the box. Larger, dangly earrings that do not have hook backs have a home in a silver dish next to the box.

Necklaces
My pearl and faux pearl necklaces are displayed in a carnival glass dish on my dresser. The rest hang from three key hook bars, hung in a row, inside my closet.


Belts
I hung a double towel rack in my closet, below the necklace hooks, to hold most of my belt collection. (Some of the chunkier pieces hang from hat hooks elsewhere in the closet.)


Scarves
My lighter, more fashiony scarves hang on the back of my closet door. The larger, more wintry wraps share hangers with the coats in the hall closet (not pictured).


My accessories are an important part of my completed looks, so I like to have them on display, where I can easily scan for just the right element. My system makes it simple to find items while also adding a decorative touch to my dressing area. I’m most pleased with the earring display, even though I say bad words when I attempt to hang an earring and end up knocking two more pairs to the ground.

What innovative ways do you have of storing and displaying your accessories?

Going Gray & Fuck You

I recently left the Going Gray & Lovin’ It Facebook group. When I first joined, I was excited to find a group of women who support one another’s decision to reveal their gray (and silver and white). Instead, I found that the culture is just as judgemental and narrow-minded as the one that insists women color their grays. Yes, the group supports natural color, but ONLY natural color. Don’t try to “cheat” your way to gray with lowlights or a pixie (but gray extensions are okay). The skunk stripe is the rite of passage. I also found it to be quite oxymoronic that the the members were discouraged from using “deadly” chemicals on their heads, but encouraged to pile on the makeup (also full of chemicals).



I might sound a bit bitter, and I am. I posted a photo of my hair, after applying a blue tint that gave me a lovely gray to blue transition, and, after a few hours of likes and comments, it was removed without notification. It was taken down because I dared to illustrate an alternative to the “grin and bear it” transition that the group advocates. I challenged the status quo with the idea that graying can be fun, as well as empowering. Fuck you, GG&LI!

I’m going gray as a form of personal expression. I’m expressing dissatisfaction with our culture’s obsession with youth. The gray hair bias, and our penchant for all things young, is related to fertility. Men are fertile well beyond their first and 5,000th gray hair. For women, though, gray hairs increase at the same time fertility begins to decrease. It’s ridiculous that in our advanced society, we still tie a woman’s worth to her fertility. Her ability to pop out babies has nothing to do with her potential contribution to art, science, government or business. I doubt large eyes, smooth skin, round bosoms, and curvy hips will ever truly fall from fashion, but there is hope of erasing the stigma of gray hair. I’m joining the ranks of silver sisters who are demonstrating that a woman can be vital, productive, and even beautiful, as her hair turns gray. Colorless hair does not mean a colorless life.

Again, I’m going gray as a form of personal expression. This is my personal expression. I don’t judge you for coloring your hair, if that’s your jam. I don’t judge your skunk stripe, if that’s your badge of honor. I don’t judge you for coloring your 25-year-old head of naturally black hair to an unnatural gray, if that’s on trend. In return, don’t judge me for enhancing my gray with pink or blue or purple. Don’t judge me if I change my mind in six months and return to flaming red. Let’s agree not to judge one another for our coiffure choices. It’s just hair, people! Turn the judgement on the judgers, not one another.

Gray hair does not make you ugly or worthless. It also doesn’t make you an earth goddess. But it can be a statement. What does your hair say about you?

10 GOMI Commandments of Fashion Blogging

Appearing on GOMI (Get Off My Internets) is a sign that you’ve made it as a style blogger. Scrolling through the Fashion/Beauty Bloggers forum reveals the who’s who of style blogging. But, while a mention might be thrilling, no one wants an entire thread dedicated to their blog. Pages and pages of snark can take an emotional toll. Having graced the pages of the Worst Fashion Blogging Pictures and the Nobody Blogs That Annoy You and other threads, myself, I know how the comments can sting. Fame, however fleeting, comes at a price.


On the Fake Walking Pictures thread, hamcats wondered whether I was "dancing alone on a street corner" or "picking a wedgie."
Out of a sick curiosity, I’ve cruised the top Fashion/Beauty Bloggers threads on GOMI. I’ve cringed on behalf of my favorite bloggers, but also found some of the feedback helpful. Amid the sarcasm and straight up hate, sensible rules for blogging emerge.

If you’d like to get off GOMI (or, rather, never get on in the first place), do not violate the following commandments:

1. Thou shall wear clothing that fits. This sin is more likely to be committed by pro bloggers in receipt of c/o items, but newbies squeeze into too small clothes, too. Abide by the following: no muffin tops, no cameltoes, no overflowing shoes. Zippers should not be near to bursting. Blazers should button without undue strain. Sleeves should not cut off circulation to the lower arm. Ill-fitting clothing on a style blog is akin to a recipe blog with no units of measure. GOMI has no mercy for the poorly fit style blogger.

2. Thou shalt have camera skills. A fancy DSLR with a 85 mm lens and a pro photog boyfriend aren’t a requirement. At the very least, though, the photos should be properly lit and in focus. Unless the photographer has a good understanding of camera functions, pose in the shade or other even lighting. Harsh shadow or overpowering sun detracts from the outfit details. Know how your camera’s focus works. One GOMI forum was alight for weeks as its target blogger continually posted outfit photos in which the roof of a distant house was in focus, and the blogger herself was blurry. If you’re in focus and properly exposed, earn bonus points by choosing a background without trash, dirty dishes, or discarded laundry.

3. Thou shalt not post too many photos. Maybe you do have a fancy camera and an even fancier camera man. But that’s no excuse for posting three billion photos of the same outfit with a slightly different head tilt in each image. At the minimum, include a full-body shot and a detail shot. Additional images should show the outfit from a different angle, in motion, or at a different distance. It’s a style blog, not a vanity blog. Each image should have unique value. Scrolling is hard, people!

4. Thou shalt not abuse Photoshop. GOMI is rife with complains of too-perfect skin, overblown exposure, intense saturation, stretched legs, and artificial thigh gap. I can’t help but agree with the hamcats. Don’t we get enough fictional representation of women’s bodies in mainstream media? It’s excusable to obscure a blemish, airbrush away the pet hair, or correct proportions caused by a wonky camera angle. However, if there is a thread dedicated to just how different you look IRL (or on your friends’ instagrams) vs your blog, the photo editing has gone too far.

5. Thou shalt be genuine. Liars and poseurs are called out with regularity on the GOMI forums. Bloggers are accused of living entirely fake, posed lives. They are suspected of buying instagram followers and posting glowing reviews of their own books. Clothing budgets are analyzed with scrutiny of the IRS. Woe to the blogger who posts her paleo meal strategy but then instagrams herself eating cronuts. Share with care and then live up to your message.

6. Thou shalt use correct grammar and spelling. Calling oneself a “teen idle” or commenting on the “heal height” of a shoe or offering a “sneak peak” of an upcoming outfit sets the GOMI forums aflame. Know the difference between the verbs lay and lie. Don’t confuse it’s and its or you’re and your. Review proper usage of I vs me and us vs we. Among fashion bloggers, the following are the most abused homonyms: peak, peek, pique; heal, heel; and palate, pallet, palette. A grammar mistake or two is understandable, but spellcheck is pretty foolproof. Use it.

7. Thou shalt not stray (too far) from the clothes. Diet, fitness, and even home decor can have a place in a style blog. A few posts on one’s children or even mental health are not out of place. But when the off-topic posts outnumber those on style, GOMI will call for you to rebrand or get off the internets. The safest bet for those who don’t want to limit topics is to become a “lifestyle blogger.” Anything goes (topic-wise) for lifestyle blogs, but there’s an entirely different set of commandments governing that genre. (Don’t ask me about Lifestyle Blog Commandments. You’ll have to do your own GOMI research.)

8. Thou shalt not pimp salad dressing or wine. Or Diet Coke. Or Vaseline. Obscure and famous bloggers alike are lambasted in the forums for obvious product placements among the outfit photos. Sincere, on-topic product reviews and recommendations are welcome, but paid advertisements rankle the ranks. Keep the Ann Taylor fitting room reviews. Ditch the awkward 7th Generation dish soap rave. Choiceful partnerships don’t give the impression of selling out.

9. Thou shalt not wear all “courtesy of” items. It doesn’t seem fair to regular working folks, but influential bloggers are sent clothing and accessories, free of charge, from stores and manufacturers. It’s understood that wearing free stuff is a blogging perk and sometimes even a requirement, but it can make the blogger unrelatable. It’s even more vexing when the c/o items are worn once and then shamelessly sold. The business of blogging was built on relatability. Show the audience you’re still the hard-working girl next door and mete out the freebies. Be subtle about the OMG “gift” from an AMAZING brand. It doesn't matter if it's head-to-toe Old Navy or Kate Spade. No one wants their nose rubbed in someone else’s privilege.

10. Thou shalt be nice. Pretty is as pretty does. Bloggers who aren’t nice to their readers will be told to GOMI. Style bloggers may engage with their readers not at all or on every platform: blog comments, Facebook, Snapchat, Instagram, Twitter, email, or even on GOMI itself. Those that choose to engage must be unfailingly polite. Never be defensive. Never be sarcastic. Never be critical. Never be disrespectful. Never be mean. If you can’t follow these rules, don’t engage at all.

In the end, you may follow all the commandments and still be told to GOMI. Haters gonna hate. Especially if you are a pro blogger. Those ladies just can’t win the hamcats. But the rest of us should merit no more than a quick mention if we follow the 10 GOMI Commandments of fashion blogging.

Simple Wardrobe Rules

No matter your budget, there is an overwhelming amount of choice when shopping for your wardrobe. Whether you’re browsing the mall, Forever 21’s website, the thrift store, or your sister’s cast-offs the sheer number of decisions that need to be made can turn you off from shopping altogether. I can’t help you with the decision on whether or not you should get a Cinnabon (do!), but instating a few wardrobe rules can make navigating the complex task of choosing clothing simple.

I used to buy whatever struck my fancy and fell beneath a certain price point, but that left me with a collection of items that were impractical and didn’t necessarily work with one another. It was an exciting wardrobe - until I had to put together an outfit. Then, I’d spend hours trying to find combinations that were work-appropriate, but still conveyed my aesthetic. I seem to have less and less time every year to shop and then dress myself, so I evolved a few rules to make shopping, and thus dressing, less complex.

My rules:

1. Limited color palette
2. Patterns for interest
3. Natural fibers
4. Comfortable shoes
5. Mental wishlist

A year ago, If you had asked me my favorite color, I would have told you, “rainbow.” I was always on the hunt for accessories in EVERY color to match my wardrobe. (Charming Charlie was a lifesaver.) After a few years of this shopping strategy, It looked like a rainbow threw up in my closet. While this was great for holiday and theme dressing, I started to crave a quieter, more sophisticated look.

After packing a few capsule wardrobes, I realized that I was beginning to gravitate towards a palette of neutrals, red, turquoise, and olive for mix-and-match options. I loved how easy it was to create outfits from my suitcase and didn’t miss my yellow jacket or orange shoes a bit. For the past 6 months, I’ve restricted wardrobe purchases to: neutrals (black, brown, gray, white, navy), red, turquoise, olive, and denim. I’ve purged a few of the brightly colored items, but there are still leftovers hanging in my closet. The beauty of my new palette is that the rainbow remnants are perfect accents to the more sober colored additions.


Rainbow Kasmira and Sober(er) Kasmira
A restricted color palette is the perfect starting point to go WILD with pattern mixing. Instead of using bright colors for interest, I use contrasting patterns. Leopard, black and white stripes, and red plaid all play nicely together. I get the “fun” I need from my wardrobe with patterns, instead of rainbow colors. When browsing the rails, I head towards the patterns in my palette first. Then, I check the fiber content.


Patterns keep a limited color palette interesting.
I won’t bore you with another treatise on my hatred of polyester. To sum up my feelings: it looks cheap, it feels cheap, and it is unbearable to wear in temperatures greater than 75 degrees. When shopping, I reject anything not made of cotton, linen, silk, wool, or leather. I do tolerate rayon and new-to-me lyocell. Polyester blended with cotton is acceptable for wrinkle-free fabrics and spandex blended with natural materials adds stretch and memory. My “no polyester” rule eliminates almost everything at the mall. No matter if I’m shopping at Forever 21 or Nordstrom, polyester dominates and I hate the stuff. Shopping is so much simpler when I skip the man-made fibers.

I miss the days of commuting to work in galoshes or flip flops (depending on the season), and then putting on my hooker heels for 8 hours of sitting at my desk. I looked so good in my office chair. My current role requires walkable footwear. I can’t tell you how angry I’ve been with myself when limping to a 4 p.m. appointment in 100 degree heat with my swollen feet threatening to burst my darling stiletto sandals. I’ve actually had to reschedule meetings when I couldn’t find parking within my acceptable walking radius. Shopping just the old lady brands makes the shoe selection process much less complex. I went to DSW recently and deselected every shoe in the store for either being uncomfortable, too casual, or just ugly.


Those heels tried to kill me. I could walk miles in my flats.
Suppose I walk into a store full of natural-fiber clothing in my favorite colors, but fun patterns, and also featuring comfy shoes. How do I deal with such bounty? I remember items on my wishlist. Currently, I’m looking for a red circle skirt and dressy, flat, black, knee-high boots. I’d also like to add another denim skirt to my collection. And I’m always looking for interesting leggings. A mental wishlist keeps me focused when faced with abundant choice.

Rather than finding my wardrobe rules constricting, I find them freeing. My shopping decisions are simpler and dressing is even easier. I’d rather free up my brain power for better use, like writing my next Toastmasters speech, looking for photo opportunities or plotting next year’s bucket list. As a bonus, I look pulled together while going about my adventures.

Over to you. I’d love to hear your wardrobe rules!

Lessons from CAMP

I’ve returned from my first blog conference and my first sleepaway camp. Although I’m a nature lover, I can do without the camp bit. I’m too old to sleep on a thin, dorm-style mattress and too private to share a room with three other (admittedly wonderful) women and way too high-maintenance to share two toilets and two showers with 23 other ladies. And I’m too cranky to be stuck miles from the nearest bar with over 200 chatty gals. But the conference thing is worth doing again.

I attended Texas Style Council because (1) Indiana asked me to do so and (2) I was curious. Curious about the business blogging. Curious about the structure of such an event. Curious about the real life presence behind the internet avatars. Curious about where I want to take my blog. Consider my curiosity satisfied!

The event was attended by bloggers, entrepreneurs, and representatives from social media agencies and large brands. I was fascinated to learn how these groups work together. Honestly, I had no idea that a third party existed to serve as the link between bloggers and brands, but it makes sense that agencies like Hello Society were created as a connection between the two. I must admit that the more I learned about the business of blogging, the less I wanted anything to do with it. But, I appreciate the powerful networking opportunity an event like this offers to all players.

I’ve attended many business conferences and the basic format was similar for CAMP: group meals, keynote speakers, breakout sessions, and networking events. The similarities ended there. Most of the “speeches” or sessions were interview style or simply open discussion. No talking head bellowed from a podium while the rest of us sat straight upright and nodded in rhythm. Meals were better attended than at any of my business meetings, but that was probably because there was nowhere else to eat. The networking events were so much more imaginative than any corporate party I’ve ever attended. We were taking photobooth pictures, painting jewelry, making friendship bracelets, decorating bags, shopping boutiques, all while engaged in natural conversation. The single most effective tool that drove engagement in CAMP versus any other conference I’ve attended was the badges. Campers could earn charmingly designed badges for engaging in almost every activity and the excitement of the competition or simply the mania to collect kept us motivated. Our final activity, one that forever bonded us as sisters and capped the event, could never have worked in a ballroom. We divided into three groups and each group formed two lines, facing one another. One by one, we walked between the lines with our eyes closed as the women on either side of us guided our progress and whispered single-word affirmations into our ears. We each left the experience grateful, connected, and empowered.

Seven of the Camp Counselors have blogs I’ve followed for years, so I was beyond curious to see what they were like In Real Life. Jentine (My Edit) is just as statuesque as she appears in pictures and Liz (Delightfully Tacky) is just as elfin. Andrea (Blonde Bedhead) was surprisingly tall. (Her photos must be taken from an odd angle.) Her midsection, though, is just as amazing as it appears in pictures. Jen (Jen Loves Kev) indeed possesses the most adorable snub nose and Jessie (Style and Pepper) has the most compelling eyes. Tieka (Selective Potential) was instantly recognizable as the girl next door you see on her blog. The biggest surprise was probably Julie (Orchid Grey). A still photo could never capture her aura. She glides through a room like a ballerina with impeccable posture and liquid grace. She’s definitely a woman who gets second glances as she passes by. Caroline (Unfancy) was a keynote speaker and a more recent follow of mine. I wasn’t prepared for how absolutely tiny she is. (She makes up for her small size with an outsized sense of adventure, though.)

I only spent time with three of my follows. Tieka was my roommate and bunkmate. She was sweet, genuine, and unassuming. I think she could put anyone at ease. Jentine made me feel special by seeking me out to chat and get to know one another. I loved her Dutch pragmatism. Liz and I were in the same groups for the high ropes course and horseback riding during the TxSC field day on Friday. I asked for a preview of her upcoming burlesque solo, but she demurred. (Thinking about it now, I may have come off as a little creepy.)

As exciting as spotting my internet crushes may have been, I learned the most from the bloggers and creatives I hadn’t followed before TxSC. They, unwittingly or not, helped me make some decisions on where I want to progress with this blog.

I spent a lot of time with Chastity (Garner Style). We were roommates and leaders of the Style session (with Laurel Kinney). I started following Chastity’s blog after making the decision to attend the conference and, although impressed with her confidence, thought she was just another style blogger. I couldn’t have been more wrong. She is a savvy business woman, a feminist, and a model for Target’s new plus-size line: Ava and Viv. She’s the real deal pro-blogger with contracts, an assistant, and a lawyer. The more I got to know her, the more I was impressed by her acumen, but also overwhelmed by the business of pro blogging. It’s more than prancing around in cute clothes and posing for pics. I felt like such an amateur next to her that I actually considered quitting my blog after we talked. I went on a long, rainy walk on Saturday morning and contemplated a final post on my 10th anniversary.

I’m not prone to melancholy, so my spirits picked up as the day progressed. I had a lovely talk with Carli (Inked Fingers) about the links between photography, our individual perspectives, and storytelling. After lunch, Chastity, Laurel, and I led the Style session. I left the session inspired by Laurel’s story of transitioning from blogger to stylist and having promised our attendees that I would continue blogging indefinitely as a representative of stylish, aging women. Afterwards, I attended the Kickstart session with Cyndie Spiegel, Marisa (New Dress a Day), and Kelly (Design Crush). There couldn’t have been a better way to end things. Their stories, and the comments from the audience, encouraged me to go my own way - pursuing writing, speaking, and photography instead of brand partnerships. This decision was further solidified by Jess Lively’s advice in the capstone keynote on Saturday night. When faced with a choice, she encouraged us to acknowledge the wants and desires in our brains, but make the final decision based on our gut feelings. While my ego would love a wardrobe of free clothing, a profile in Lucky, and a sponsored trip to the Caribbean, my soul would rather create than consume. My blog has always been my creative outlet and I have new inspiration to continue to create original content.

While I’ll consider attending another blogging conference, I don’t know if any could compete with my first. Try as I might to maintain my distance, Indiana pulled me in at the start with her enthusiastic hug upon my arrival. My detached curiosity eroded as I fan-girled all over the Bloggess, took time for self-reflection, and listened to the stories around me. Maybe the “camp” part wasn’t so bad after all; it forced us to stay present and engaged. This was a special experience and I am so glad that I got to be a part of it, sleep deprivation and all. Just let me stay in my own room, next time.

40 B4 40: Drive-In Movie

When Return of the Jedi was released, my mother and I saw the movie together at the local drive-in theatre. No sisters. It was just the two of us and Jabba the Hutt and the Ewoks. I wasn’t allowed to tell my sisters we’d been to see the show. It was our special, secret mother-daughter outing. To this day, Episode VI is my favorite of the Star Wars series. Was it the Ewoks or the secret?

A year later, the entire family returned to the drive-in. I don’t remember the first feature, only the second. After the family-friendly show, my sisters and I were supposed to sleep in the back seat while my parents watched Sheena: Queen of the Jungle. What little girl wouldn’t want to peek at a movie in which a beautiful woman is friends with the animals of the jungle? Of course, we were shocked when Sheena took off her clothes to swim, but that only added to the forbidden appeal of the film.

My last excursion to the now-defunct Your Twin drive-in theatre was in the summer between my senior year and college. By this time, I was aware of the drive-in’s reputation as a hot-spot for teenage romance. My long-time crush, Ryan Penner, invited me to a show. I dressed with care, wearing the short denim shorts I had just updated with ruffles along the pockets and cuffs. Although we saw the show with a group, just the two of us sat in the front seats of his parents’ Toyota Camry. I waited all evening for the pass that never came. He was there to see the movie. I can’t tell you what show was playing.

That theatre was demolished during my last year of college. The outdoor movie theatre industry declined. I didn’t even see another drive-in until I moved to Sacramento, nineteen years after my last, and disappointing, drive-in movie experience.

We now live less than 3 miles from the West Wind Sacramento 6 Drive-In. On long winter evenings, the movies are a distraction when driving the nearby roads. How could we not at least try it?

Things have changed since my last visit to a drive-in. No longer do bulky, retro speakers hang on the windows for sound. Instead, we were able to tune in to a radio station and hear the movie on Beefy’s car’s excellent sound system. Not much is forbidden about the experience, as a married adult. We “smuggled” in Subway and Taco Bell, but I don’t think that was against the rules. We could have made out (and more) in the seats, but I think we’d both rather do that at home. I wish I had brought in a beer, and Yelp reviews reveal that the scent of marijuana is not uncommon, but the strongest drug we consumed was diet Coke.

The drive-in has new appeal as adults. The Honda CRV's seats were far more comfortable than a conventional theater. We were able to use our phones to our hearts’ content. We conversed during the movie without being shushed. (I love to comment on the action during a movie.) I took my shoes off and propped my feet on the dash, without fear of later stepping my stockinged foot into sticky soda residue. When it was over, we didn’t even have to get up out of our seats to leave. It was a comfortable and private experience. But not at all mysterious or thrilling.

At some point in our lives, we revisit childhood or young adult experiences and find them rather less stimulating than we remembered. I’m afraid that my recent drive-in experience just reconfirms my fears that turning 40 means the end of excitement and the beginning of comfort. I just haven’t decided if that’s all bad.

40 B4 40

I’ve always craved adventure. One of my earliest memories is of a bedtime prayer to God, asking Him to burn down my house, so that our family would move. I prayed that my family would escape unscathed and that I’d have time to grab my precious china cats, but that our house would be ruined and we’d have to find a new place to live. Since my wish was never granted, I settled for travels of the mind. I sought adventures in time, place, and dimension through books. I devoured both the Little House and the Narnia series. A Wrinkle in Time and The Plug at the Bottom of the Sea were favorites. When I wasn’t able to read, I’d daydream. Stuck in church, I’d imagine I could step through the wallpaper and into the redwood forest it depicted. Maybe I’d find Ewoks just around that bend. Or I’d make a home in a hollowed stump like in My Side of the Mountain. My fantasies continued when sent outside to play or walking to and from school. We lived in a valley, surrounded by hills, and I always wondered, “What’s on the other side of that hill? And past the next? And the next?” I couldn’t wait to be grown up and free to explore.

Once I was grown up, I didn’t waste a moment in experiencing as much of life as possible. I cooked Indian cuisine, sailed a dinghy, climbed Andean peaks, fished for piranhas in the Amazon, swam laps, danced ballet, indulged in Amsterdam, backpacked through the wilderness solo, kayaked in Belize, completed a triathalon, joined the Marines, and lived in Japan. As I’ve aged, has the adventuring slowed down? Perhaps. I have responsibilities now. I haven’t left the country in ten years and haven’t backpacked in longer. But adventures can be found close to home. In the last ten years I started three blogs (and continued one), performed on stage, ran a few marathons, learned to sing, raced up Pike’s Peak, became a saleswoman, moved across the country, married a second time, and trained a dog. I’ve sought adventures of the mind and spirit, continuing to challenge myself. Still, there is more excitement to be had! If I’m not too old for it.

I’ve been warily watching my 40th birthday approach for a few years. All you post-40 somethings will laugh at this, but that seems to be the year marker at which I become “old.” My body will be broken down. I’ll be too tired to pursue my interests. My face will transform from youthful to haggard. I’ll be expected to focus on serious pursuits like my career, community, and charities. Instead of exploring new horizons, I’ll be mentoring younger women through their own adventures. If that’s the case, then I plan to have a really great 39th year.

What follows is a list of 40 activities I’d like to complete before I’m 40. They range from simple to daring, but all appeal to my sense of adventure:

1. Get old timey photos of our family
2. Skydive or hanglide
3. Take a Napa wine tour
4. Hike Half Dome
5. Stand-up paddleboard
6. Snowshoe
7. Camp with the dogs
8. Skateboard at a skate park
9. Compete in an agility competition
10. Renew my passport
11. Pose for a photo with Mickey Mouse
12. Attend a Comicon
13. Dye my hair pink
14. Teach Jasper to walk nicely on a leash
15. Do a 365 Photo project
16. Sew a garment
17. Take a sewing class
18. Meditate
19. See a live concert
20. Go to a hot air balloon festival
21. Learn to 2-finger whistle
22. Do the splits
23. Show Dan my old Bridgeport haunts
24. Finish making all the burgers in Veggie Burgers Every Which Way
25. Write one special content blog post per month
26. Sail
27. Wallpaper a wall
28. Participate in Toastmasters
29. Ride a horse
30. Have a birthday party
31. See local theater
32. Practice ambidexterity
33. Learn a new piano song
34. Raft down a river
35. See a drive-in movie
36. Take a historical home tour
37. Practice lucid dreaming
38. Gaze at the stars
39. Send out holiday cards
40. Guest appear on a podcast

I’m a little worried that having all this fun will make it more difficult to settle down on my 40th birthday, but I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. Meanwhile: “Adventure time! Excellent!”

Why We Didn't Rescue

This post has nothing to do with style or even fitness. Instead, I’d like to address the question I’ve already gotten several times: Why didn’t we adopt our second dog from a rescue group?

The short answer: we tried. We have approved applications on file with the two largest Border Collie rescue groups in Northern California. Since April, we’ve applied for a over a dozen dogs. Of all those dogs, we only got to meet one. Rock, a beautiful, young merle collie, is athletic and smart, but he attacked Jasper within minutes of meeting him. Thankfully, he found a home on a ranch where he could romp to his heart’s content. The rest of the dogs we applied for also found homes. Most were adopted by other applicants before our “turn.” A few linger in foster care because our situation was deemed unsuitable by the foster parents. (We were told by one parent that the occasional seven-hour day Jasper spends alone, in the house, was untenable for rescue dogs.) But they will eventually find their forever homes. (I suspect, with their foster parents!)

When I expressed guilt as one of the reasons I wanted to adopt our second dog, Rock’s foster mom told me: “Never feel guilty for getting your puppy from a breeder. It’s the only way you know what you’re getting.” When we failed to adopt a pre-owned border collie, we explored the breeder options in the area. Beefy and I have only worked with reputable breeders who supply records on both parents and ask to be informed of any health issues with the pups. It is a source of comfort to know that our pup’s parents suffer from neither hip dysplasia or collie eye. Jackson’s breeder met Jasper and allowed us to introduce him to the pups at 6 weeks to ensure we made the best match possible.

Why did we want another Border Collie? For all the same reasons we selected a BC the first time! They are medium-sized, athletic, energetic, smart, biddable, and cat-safe(ish). We considered other breeds, but ruled many out because they wouldn’t be able to do Jasper’s favorite activities, had breed-specific health issues or were likely to be a danger to our kitties. I could have gone with a standard poodle for dog #2, but Beefy objects to them as frou-frou.

I have no issues with mutts, but, not knowing the parentage, you can’t predict the dog’s temperament or ultimate size. With Jasper and five cats already at home, safety is paramount. I can’t risk aggression behaviors or a strong prey drive. I’m also afraid of bringing home a small pound pup, expected to become a medium-sized dog, and ended up with a 100+ lb animal. As much as Beefy covets giant dogs, we don’t have the space in the house, yard, or car for something that large!

Why did we add a second dog to our family at all? Well, this is the least defensible answer: for Jasper. We do all the things a human can do for a dog. Obviously, we provide food, water, shelter, and veterinary care. He also gets a minimum of an hour of aerobic activity a day and exercise for his mind, as well. We do on-leash runs, off-leash hiking, games of frisbee, agility, and swims in the river. He is constantly learning new tricks and vocabulary. (You should see him push the walk button to cross Folsom Avenue!) But we can’t provide doggie companionship: wrestling, chasing, (play) biting. Each time I left a doggy play date with his friends Rosko, Charlie, or Yoshi, I was sad that it couldn’t happen more often.

Jasper now has his live-in playmate. Jackson is a healthy 8-week Border Collie pup and integrating well into the household. (Less than 24 hours after picking him up, we got a call from the breeder asking for an update.) He’s already learning “outside,” “potty,” “house,” “sit,” “come,” and his name. We are looking forward to many years as a two-dog family. At the end of that run, we will try to adopt (and maybe foster), again.

Cincinnati to Sacramento: A Lifestyle and Wardrobe Shift

When I moved from Cincinnati to Sacramento, I understood that I’d be changing climates. What I didn’t anticipate, was the lifestyle change I’d make and how that would affect my wardrobe.

In Cincinnati, I worked at a desk all day long every day. I walked to and from the bus stop every morning and evening, but was otherwise seated for most of the day. I exercised at lunch, sometimes running outside, but often choosing an indoor fitness class or a session on a machine. Three times a week, I swam indoors, at University of Cincinnati, in its large and very nice aquatic center. My evenings were usually spent inside and mostly sedentary: in rehearsals, at voice lessons, or just chilling at home. The weekends didn’t include much outdoor activity, either. I started each weekend with swim practice and usually followed that with a big lunch and a nap. Sundays might include training for a race or attending an outdoor event, but we were mostly inside all weekend. We visited family, shopped, cooked (there was a lot more cooking in those days!) or binge watched tv shows. The winters I spent in Cincinnati were characterized by cold, dry weather and the summers were hot and humid. Spring and fall, only a few short weeks each, were the most pleasant times to be outside (and to dress for!)

My Sacramento life is vastly different. On a good day, I get a couple of hours at my desk in the morning, but I’m often out the door and into the car early. My territory is varied. I might drive as much as an hour or as little as fifteen minutes to my first customer. Some salons have parking lots, but many do not. I may have to park a few blocks away or even walk from salon to salon downtown. Inside the salon, I rarely sit down and may be on my feet for 45 minutes at a time. I’m in and out of the car and the elements all day. Every weekday morning, I run 4 miles with Jasper from my house to the river and back. I still swim three times a week, but I’m in an outdoor pool (winter too!) When I don’t have swim practice, I’m often outdoors in the evening: rambling at the river, playing at the dog park, tossing the frisbee in the backyard, or puttering on the patio. The weekends start outside. Our Saturday morning tradition is doughnuts and frisbee at the nearby school before I head to swim practice. The rest of the day is fluid, but usually involves another outdoor activity for Jasper. Sunday mornings I leave the house early for a long hike with the dog. A few weekends a month, Beefy and I try to attend a local event, go birdwatching or eat at a new restaurant to better integrate into the area. (Bonus if the activity is dog friendly!) The summers are hot hot hot, with a handful of 100 degree days, and dry. The winters are typically mild and wet (but we’ve been in a drought). Spring and fall aren’t long, but the pleasant weather can be extended by heading to the mountains or beach.

Since moving to Sacramento, I . . .

Purchase more casual attire. After work in Cincinnati, I wore either my pajamas or my office duds (if I wasn’t yet home). In Sacramento, I change into sturdy, casual wear that can be worn to the beach, dog park, or an athletic field. My casual dresses lose the battle with the delta breeze, so I often choose denim shorts, leggings, or stiff skirts. Weekends also require dog-friendly wear. My delicate, non-work-appropriate items languish in my closet. I bought three tees, five pairs of shorts, two denim skirts, and denim overalls in the past few months.

Sturdy casual wear:


Favor comfortable, leather shoes. I’ll never give up my heels, but the uncomfortable ones are being weeded out. Stiff and platform soles are unwalkable. Uppers of man-made materials do not yield or breathe. In Cincinnati, I’d wear flipflops, moccasins, or galoshes to and from the bus stop, but change into my impossible footwear at the office. This is no longer an option. My shoes have to be bearable for at least a few blocks of walking and 30 minutes at a time on my feet. I’ve bought 15 pairs of shoes since I moved here (excluding boots). Ten were leather, four were fabric, and one pair were man-made. Guess which pair got the “boot” after only a few wears?

I purged these shoes (among others), since the move:


Buy more boots. I can no longer pair tights with suede, peep-toe, platform heels in the winter. Such juxtapositions are best saved for indoor only wear. Instead, boots are the best and most comfortable option for days in and out of the weather from November to March. I’ve added nine pairs of boots (or booties or shortie boots) to my collection since moving to Sacramento. Like shoes, I prefer leather or fabric uppers. The single pair of PVC, platform boots I bought from Amazon were quickly replaced with a suede pair from a consignment shop.

Nine pairs of boots is an embarrassment of riches (but pair #3 is gone).


Shun polyester. I’ve never been a big polyester fan, but it is a necessary evil in a wardrobe of quantity over quality and trends over classics. In Cincinnati, I whined if I had to wear the unbreathable stuff in the humid heat, but mostly lounged in air-conditioned buildings. In Sacramento, I’m suffering in the heat with little respite. My car does have air, but by the time it’s recovered from 120 degrees parked in the sun to a more comfortable temp, it’s time to get out and into the triple digits again. I still have a few of my very favorite polyester items to wear when the temps dip below 75, but I’ve mostly culled the poly in favor of silk, linen, cotton, and rayon (yes, man-made, but breathable). I’ve purchased seventy garments in the past two years. Twenty were polyester or PVC and most of those were bought in the first few months of my move. The other fifty items are natural fibers, blends, or rayon.

A few of my Sacramento shopping “mistakes”:


Yeah, that last skirt was cute, but it was simultaneously flimsy and super sweaty.

I've now been in Sacramento for two years. The thrift shop near my house has “benefited” from my wardrobe transition with a constant influx of unwalkable shoes and polyester garments. I’m happy to have transitioned to an outdoor lifestyle and upgraded to practical and quality wardrobe items.