Covetworthy

Earlier this year, I had to end my relationship…with television. After making sweet love to my Tivo all winter, I decided to break it off with my remote and go back to the books. I went literal, literally.

I have been an avid reader all my life, but for too long saying those words was cowpie. Living in NYC, I exhibited all the symptoms of a real reader – my four room apartment had but one television, on which I watched Seinfeld and the occasional rented video. I finished a book a week MINIMUM and frequented lit lovefests. Now my home has two more TVs than bedrooms, all but one have DVRs and my two-year-old can wield the remote with the best of ‘em. It’s just wrong.

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I just stayed at a five-star resort for a couple of days by myself last week, just a little recharge. (Because everyone knows that when Mama’s happy, everybody’s happy.) And while it was luxurious to be sure, the things I enjoyed the most were all things I could replicate at home.

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So as excited as I was about launching this series on Swagger, I haven’t been able to post to it. A strange, unforeseeable, unbelievable event has happened to a dear friend and has completely taken me off my Covetworthy game. In fact, it’s rocked me to my core.

This person is not just a dear friend, but a dear sisterfriend, someone that I have known for almost 15 years. And to me, true friendship years are like dog years. So that’s enough giggles, gaffes, men, mishaps, career changes, cocktails, crushes, breakups, breakdowns and breakthroughs to fill 105 trips around the sun.

And so it’s with this on my heart and in my mind that I submit the first item for my Swagger Hall of Fame: being and having a Real Friend. (And you thought this was going to be just about Daniel Craig, hot bags and cool shoes…)

So do a quick inventory. If you’ve got one Real Friend, you’re blessed. If you’ve got more than one, cherish that, protect that, celebrate that. Right now. It could be gone or irrevocably altered in the blink of the eye.

So, for the first post in this series on Swagger, let’s start with the definition.

Swagger (SWAG-uhr): Noun.

It’s a FEELING: the ability to remain above it all, focused. Keeping your head about you when all else is going to hell in a handbag. It’s believing and acting like the chaos dumped at your heels was your stepping stone to a greater and higher place.

It’s a FORM OF CURRENCY: yet unlike most monetary units, it isn’t subject to the peaks and valleys, whims and whimsies of the global marketplace. You can’t buy with it, but it can buy you lots…respect, loyalty, and power, to name a few. At home and in the home.  Abroad, as a broad, among the broads.

It’s a POWER POSITION: the corner office of cool. That DESIRED place we all strive for. It’s knowing what you’re worth and commanding full price, down to the last penny, pound or Euro.

It’s a CONSCIOUSNESS: Being fully aware of where you stand, who you stand with, who you can’t stand and what you won’t stand for.

It’s a MYSTIQUE: Choosing when, where, what and how many secrets to share. Chicks with swagger manage their magic well. They may live their lives as an open book, but they keep the juiciest parts password-protected.

It’s a LOOK: Ultimate comfort in one’s one skin, whether that skin is faux or fur, nude-colored or au naturale. You’re aware that fashion’s favorite new hue is violet, but when you rock it, rest assured that the word “shrinking” never enters anyone’s mind.

It’s a SKILL:  It’s being bold enough to step up to the plate, to admit one’s missteps, and most importantly, to step aside when the situation requires.

So now you know why it’s covetworthy.

Know someone with swagger? Share this with them.

It’s no new news that President Obama and the First Lady were named to Vanity Fair’s International Best Dressed List. So let me step out on a little limb here. Miss Michelle deserved it. Him? Eh.

Lest you add me to his growing list of haters, I assure that I am not. I’m an early supporter, financial and otherwise. I stumped for him. A “Yes We Can”-uttering, clever-campaign-tshirts-buying, Change-We-Can-Believe-In-cotton-totebag-carrying devotee. I find his brand of leadership as refreshing as mint lemonade. I just can’t say that I find him particularly *well-dressed.*

Exhibit A.
His standard navy suit + white shirt + patriotically hued neckwear + flag pin uniform.
Me: Yawn.

Exhibit B.
His vacation look.
Me: No words, just brows furrowed in concern.

You can fill that big silence there with me shaking my head. If I had magic powers for one day, erasing the above image of him in those belted joints would damn near be my first order of business. (Do I spy a crease?!? Lord, help us all.)

You see, what VF failed to pinpoint is what really landed him on that list. There’s no je ne sais quoi about it – I know exactly what it is. In a word, it’s his swagger. His confidence, his comfort in his own skin, his ability to be all that and encourage others to do the same.

But isn’t there more to it than that? What makes swagger so covetworthy is how it manages to be exceedingly prevalent, yet it’s a rare find. It’s like this: the hot handbag of the moment is out there for anyone to carry, but not just anyone can carry it off. For Mr. Obama, he seemed to summon up every positive and powerful attribute within himself at just the precise moment in history. And he made it look effortless. That is swagger. More importantly, that’s swagger that matters.

So…how should we define it? Does everyone have it but many know not how to tap it? Starting in October, I’m launching a month-long series on the topic of swagger. I want to explore the following:

Defining the undefinable – what it is, and what it’s not
The main players with swagger: who’s got it, who’s getting it, whose is swag-gone for good
Why it matters so much and when it matters most
Can it be faked, boosted, bettered?

Lastly, I strive to develop a list of the top people, places, products and concepts with it. A SWAGGER HALL OF FAME, if you will. Your input on this is encouraged, for this list will not be just for me, but for all of us to reference, to enjoy, and from which to seek inspiration.

Who’s with me?
SWK xxoo