Dirty Denim

Saturday night, NYC. The occasion: my college roomie's 30th birthday (Craftbar, excellent as always). I broke my own rule and wore dark rinse jeans in July (JBrand that go with everything), so I shouldn't be too surprised that I arrived home at 11pm drenched in sweat and rain.

While waiting for the LIRR (suburbanites must take mass transit when they travel into the City, or else risk summer gridlock and astronomical parking garage bills) it started to drizzle. I realized quickly that I had wasted 50 minutes ironing my hair with one hand, while fighting my infant off of my leg and out of the baby un-proofed bathroom cabinets with the other. The drizzle turned immediately to pouring rain, the kind that drenches sidewalks, hot with summer sun, which then release that musty, soaking smell into the suffocating air. The train crept into the station, and continued its snails pace ascent into the summer hell known as Penn Station. Still some time to spare before dinner (I am obsessively early to all events) I was able to stop at my favorite JCrew in Flatiron for a peak at the sale rack. (One solitary tweed No. 2 pencil in a size 2  for $20.99, reduced from $128? score.)

Dinner was fabulous, and a unique chance to see a few college friends that I havent seen since before I had Tucker (and who I used to drink Raspberry Smirnoff and Diet Coke from plasitc cups with at the Jersey Shore). Headed back hurriedly to Hell Station with that pressing urgency of knowing you could miss the last train back to LI, I couldn't catch a cab, stepped into one of those bottomless puddles that gather on street corners after summer downpours, and made it with fresh blisters, soaking wet pants that I could barely sit in, and 3 minutes to spare. Fittingly, I ended up sitting across from 3 drunk, loud girls from the south shore who had gotten on my Oyster Bay train in error. They too made the poor choice of denim in July, but the loudest of the 3 decided she'd take her pants off to rectify the situation. Never a dull moment after 10pm on the LIRR.

'Tails Tuesday

On a hot summer day, after a particularly grueling day at work, nothing hits the spot like a chilled beverage, served in the perfect glass. Lately, I've been very into the fresh, fragrant hint of basil added to my cocktail of choice, the martini. This recipe from Food & Wine back in 2007 is one of the simplest and best around.

Aside from the fact that I wasted the time and effort to straighten my hair last night without reading the forecast first, I've fared pretty well in the heat (for someone who sweats in the dead of winter and perspires before my sneaker hits the pedal on my new elliptical, which took me 90 minutes to assemble last week). So hair up, skip the flat iron, and enjoy a refreshing twist on a classic cocktail tonight.

Statement Making

Harper's Bazaars attempts to keep readers on their fashion toes with their 'Keep, Buy and Store' lists of those items that are still on trend, emerging onto the scene, and should be retired.each season. While I always glance at this spread, rarely do I take serious note. (I 'keep' everything I like, I only 'buy' things I like, I never dabble in a trend for trend's sake alone, and refuse to 'store' anything I love wearing).

Making their debut on the fashion scene in the later part of 2007 in a big way, the so-called 'Statement necklaces' are just that- neck ornaments that say it all. My custom closet included an entire wall designated for my large necklaces (when I listed this as one of the needs for the designer, she looked at me and asked what I meant by 'Statement Necklace' wall, and we both looked at each other as if the other were crazy.) Recent times have called for a tightening of the purse strings, but not a tightenting of my appetite for newness. So on my ever shrinking budget, I set out to freshen my statement wall with a new member or two.

Though I've been off of Banana in recent times, I was pleasantly surprised by their jewelry case.  Remnants of the summer collaboration with Trina Turk last month and the accompanying infusions of jade, turquoise and punchy orange caught my eye upon entering the Greenvale location. View the entire collection (all priced under $80) here. And what better friend to the statement necklace than the large, oversized cocktail ring? (Because I am impatient and insist on wearing my new purchases immediately, I've spent an inordinate amount of time this week staring at my closet planning entire outfits around a 3 inch ring.) And of course a large ring is the least practical piece of jewelry one with an infant can wear, so it must be placed in my purse and only put on after safely in the car after daycare drop off. But as my husband is still learning, fashion is rarely about practicality.

When to Say When

The art of knowing when enough is enough is just that - an art. In daily life I often pause, consider if this is the moment to change course and move on, or to fight through and persevere.

Sleep Training. Last night the baby didn't want to go to sleep at his usual 6:30 bedtime, back rubbing and lavender lotion  for 'calm and rest' were fruitless. Come 7:00 we resigned to crying (baby and me). 7:10, still crying. 7:15 crying with 20 second pauses. 7:20 less crying, longer pauses. Give up and go back in? Or hold firm and wait for him to fall asleep? The latter (with a glass of wine filled to the top).

Dressing for first day with new boss (in hot office with air conditioner of limited effectiveness). Simple wrap dress. And accessories, always lots of accessories. When it comes to stacking bangles or draping  multiple single strand Tiffany Elsa Peretti chains, its never time to say 'When'.

Impulse shopping for a new shirt for drinks with the girls tonight. One cute top at Forever21 for $19.00, a bargain. Another similar shirt in a different color for the same price. And then a cute fedora you might wear to the pool. And a scarf. Stop. Put down all items but one. No longer in discount territory, and might as well have bought one silk tank from J.Crew for the same price.

Friendship. A roommate from college, once best friends, now estranged. An email, then 2, then 3, with no response. Ask to meet for a drink, ask for a reply. Give up? Maybe after the second, but sometimes I can't take my own advice.