Covetworthy

I have been searching for a new (and not-so-humble) abode for nearly five years. Seems impossible but it’s all truth. This quest has taken me high into the hills of Hollywood, deep into the canyons of Santa Monica; estates in, like, gated communities, you know, like, in the Valley; beachfront bungalows along the Pacific coast.  Even as far as NYC, where I was whisked about in a black Lincoln town car, flitting between fabulous high rises, each with jaw-dropping views and five-star resort amenities. (Um, maid service, daily continental breakfasts, Friday night cocktail parties for residents all at no charge, anyone?)

But for the past 16 months, I have been pretty particular about one in particular. Then this week, after months of negotiations and culminations, walk-throughs and drivebys, buildups and letdowns, we decided to walk away. To be sure, this was not the expected turn of events, but even more surprising has been my reaction. I’m not disappointed. Not depressed. But actually, relieved. Yup, relief.

For so long, it was like trying to force a square peg in a round hole. All these problems, big and small, tripping up what should have been my joyous Jimmy Choo stride into the flyest house on the block.  And finally – FINALLY – I stopped. And that brings me to what just might be the most revelatory covetworthy idea yet. Covetworthy Tip #84: Don’t force it.

Incidentally, this truism is worth applying to many facets of a covetworthy girl’s life: be it shoes, relationships, high-waisted pants or the biggest financial decision you’ll make in your entire life. You know, when you’re working too hard to make it work? Yeah, don’t.

And as if I needed any more proof, there’s also this: since Monday, I’ve thrice been complimented by strangers on my makeup (when all I was wearing was moisturizer, Great Lash, eyeliner and Smashbox gloss.) Then two people stopped me in Beverly Hills and asked if they’ve seen me on television.

Coincidence? I think not.  Just goes to show that a clear head trumps clear skin anyday.

You have to be taught to be second class; you’re not born that way. -Lena Horne

I pay homage to a true original, Lena Horne, who died today at the age of 92. Coco Chanel once said that a woman needs to be only two things: classy and fabulous. Throw in talented, fiery, original, beautiful and you have Ms. Lena.

When I think of the women of her era, I am amazed at what she endured, what she sacrificed, what she learned to smile and bear to pursue her dreams. The little deaths, the indignities large and small. Singing her heart out to a packed house but not able to order a drink at the same bar.  In what should have the height of her career, she decided to speak her mind and stand her ground, nevermind the impact on her career and her reputation.

I love that she was wholly and undeniably Lena. One of her critics wrote that she was “ageless … tempered like steel, baked like clay, annealed like glass; life has chiseled, burnished, refined her.”

What a wonderful lesson for the rest of us covetworthy ladies in waiting, seeking our own place in history. Today, I honor you, Ms. Horne. You made it okay to play it out on your own terms. Thank you.