Covetworthy

This year is barely one month old, and yet 2010 presents me with a question for the ages: exactly how much pain can I endure from a shoe?

Don’t answer in haste. You need to know the details first. This is not just a shoe. It is The Most Beautiful Shoe in the World.  It stretches my leg to amazonian heights. Adds some potent swish to my stride. This is SuperShoe – able to leap cryptic dress codes in a single bound. (“Festive Formal Chic”? “Creative Corporate Cool”? Foiled!)

How did I happen upon SuperShoe?  It happened two days ago when I came face to face with a familiar foe – the Macy’s designer shoe sale. (Shoe sales are my Kryptonite. I am utterly powerless in their midst.)  In one 45-minute frenzy, I tried on fourteen pairs of shoes. Calling on the fortitude of the ancestors, I settled on two.  Both impossibly high heels that make my calves go on for millennia. (Nevermind that one pair is a full size too small.)  These shoes can be reached from now on at the following address: Stacey’s Closet, Bad Ass Division, Cubby 1 and Cubby 2.

And suddenly as I was making my exit, she called out to me from her perch high atop a hidden rack. SuperShoe is lavender (my favorite) with black piping, satin finish with a tiny bow (so femme), a 5-inch heel. And a hefty FIFTY PERCENT OFF discount to boot. Boo-yah!

So what kind of pain are we talking about here? On a scale of 1 being pebble-in-your-sock-irritation and 10 as Chinese foot binding, it’s about a 4.5. But that’s just walking around the marshallowy carpet in the store. What happens when I take Baby Doll out in my hardwood, concrete and unevenly-paved ‘hood?  *Sigh*

But…she’s just so pretty.  There’s not another in my life like SuperShoe. She deserves a permanent home befitting the lifestyle for which she was so lovingly created. And Cubby 3 is vacant. What to do????

I was all set to post another punchy, pithy entry about the shoe-to-end-all-shoes that I just bought, and my preparations for the party-packed weekend to come (kids’ birthday, adult birthday, fashion line launch, Golden Globes!)  But then the earthquake in Haiti happened.  And everything has changed.

The images cannot be escaped. A bleeding father and bandaged baby laying side by side on a cot. A lifeless body,  facedown amid a heap of rubble. Blank expressions on the faces of those carrying the wounded away.

I can’t ignore the images and the sadness and grief and despair that I feel, although I have no direct ties to the country. So to combat the overwhelming feelings of helplessness, I’ve done all I know how to do – I donated to Red Cross. I celebrated for friends who finally heard from their parents. I have cried tears for people that are still waiting or worse yet, who’ve had the worst confirmed. I’ve prayed. And I will not stop.

If there is anything else that YOU know that can be done, please let me know. Until then, I will watch. I will give. I will cry. I will celebrate. I will pray. And I will not stop.

In honor of Cyber Monday, a few tips on giving gifts…

Sometimes you hit the ball out of the park and give a gift that truly wows. But most times, your little something is really just a little something. That’s okay. There are ways to up the excitement no matter what you’re bestowing.

Tip #1: If it’s the thought that counts, don’t gift something that has no thought behind it. We’ve all received this type of gift. You open the nondescript box/floral tapestry gift bag/rumpled plastic bag and go “WTF?!?” while your face is trying to convey “OMG!” Don’t make your friends work this hard. It’s really mean.

Tip #2:  Pay attention to outward appearances. The wrapping can be just as tantalizing as the gift. (Hellooooo, white satin bow around robin’s egg blue box.) Add the unexpected to your present. Punch a small hole at the top of a fun, funny or meaningful picture and scrawl your message on the back. Slip a ribbon through it and voila, the most interesting gift tag in the bunch. Or turn a so-so wrapping paper inside out exposing the white underside. Adorn, adorn, adorn –  a handwritten message, your kids’ handprints, favorite quotes, lyrics to the Jeffersons theme song, whatever floats your boat. Correction: whatever floats your RECEIVER’S boat. This is about them.

Tip #2.5: If you must give a gift bag, have a signature flourish. You gotta make some sort of impression beyond “While I was picking up deodorant at Target, I remembered that I have to put your gift in something.” Add wit and whimsy with a liberal dose of old school candies for your sweetie, or for the ones who kiss and tell, a little black book and feather pen dangling precariously from the handles.

Tip #3: Layer, layer, layer. Say you’re getting a gift card for a new homeowner. Useful. She will looooooooove it, and will promptly place it in a drawer in said home and remember it in 18 months, exactly six months past the day it has expired. Keep your gift top of mind by combining it with a coffee table book on hip homes in her style. Use twine to tie your gift card to the latest issue of a home magazine, and use cool tabs to highlight some items you know she likes. Wouldn’t hurt to throw in $20 for a subscription to that magazine as well. (With only four magazines still in print, this should not be hard.)

Tip #4: Go in halfsies. Gifting someone you know well but not well enough to foot the entire bill? No problem.  Grab a pal and spring for something really nice. What wine novice wouldn’t love a jump start on his collection? Split a 3-month wine club membership with two other friends for $45 each.

Happy gifting!

Sxxoo

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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With my pre-baby body blissfully within reach, I am loving all these Mad Men getups. Body conscious dresses and high waisted skirts in wonderfully tactile fabrics. Professional in the front, splah-DOW from behind. It’s fabulous. But what’s really got my tweeds in a twitter is what’s underneath.

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