Dreams, Schemes & Countless Fabulous Things..

"I'd rather have friends who care than friends who agree with me."  Arlo Guthrie

If mannequins could speak to passersby who peep by the light of the window display..
they would tell the stories of shopgirls & the chatter filled noise that brought them to life on that day.

Something about laughter & talks about happily ever after & all the ways the world could be brought together
IF we all really wanted it that way...  

A little talk about politics a lot of talk about concert tix
& the latest people in their lives who take their collective breaths away.

Dreams
Schemes
Countless fabulous things

 If mannequins could tell about the fierce loyalty that is held between shopgirls who style them up without end?
  It would surely be stories of infinite glitter dance parties & how nothing shimmers brighter than the love of a friend. 

Happy New Year

2012 is Yours

Hepburn Hugs & Ric Ocasek Dreams

Birdee Bow

Santa So Stylin' & Blue Bic Wishes

I keep Santa on speed dial because a girl never knows when she's gonna need to call upon a snappy fabulous friend dressed in red with a beard as white as the driven snow who loves to give gifts & is rumored to be made of pure magic.  As much as the world would like to tell me that such magical endeavors are merely fantasy?  I'm still a fan of The Claus. I'm still a believer, even though I realize this crazy world makes it tough to be a believer at times..

Today I decided to do something I haven't done since I was a little girl.  I decided to write my very own letter to Santa.  The last time I touched base with Santa in writing I'm pretty sure the correspondence consisted of a teddy bear, roller skates & pink cowboy boots request.  For the record he came through on all accounts.  Ahhh good old Santa!  Anyway, I thought it might be fun to write The Claus as an adult, just to see where my thoughts would take me.  I was curious to know what wishes I might conjure up on a moment's notice.  The plan was to blog about it later & share the silliness of my materialistic nature (because I definitely have one). I fully planned to put a stamp on it & mail it away to The North Pole immediately after writing.  Why not?? 

My letter journey started out simple enough:   "Dear Santa",  I sketched out, in my best print handwriting " I wish for.." At that exact moment a blank stare parked itself upon my face. As my hand froze, something beyond my comprehension began to happen.  I did NOT know what to ask for, I did not know what to write.  ME? Come on!  I want LOTS of things. Endless things!  How could I be at a loss for words? Things Things Things. This is my specialty. THIS is what I DO.  I'm a wisher!  I'm a crush it til I get it kinda girl. What on Earth was happening here? Suddenly, just as quickly as my pen hit the table,  I jerked it back up again & the words "makes me happy " began to form.  Only this time the letters were in cursive with large meaningful strokes, swirls of letters across an empty white page coming to life with a blue Bic.  Happy, fun, energetic words on & on flowing so easily, effortlessly, as if by magic.  Hyper cursive words appearing with accompanying smiles on my face for every listing of a beautiful person in my life:  People who care about me in this world & ask for nothing in return except for exactly who I am.  People who make me feel alive with the spirit of a holiday season every day of the year. My Holiday Wish?  To spend more time with them.
 Santa's So Stylin!  Hope he writes me back:)

Believe
Hepburn Hugs & Claus Wishes

xoxo
Birdee Bow

SMILE Lines Like You Mean It..

I once met a gentleman who had been a NYC fashion photographer in the mid 1960's.  A very dapper older man with a great sense of style & impeccable manners.  He was a client of a friend of mine & on several occasions we met, by chance, in the waiting room of our mutual acquaintance.  I've always been enthralled by the romantic idea of  New York City in the 60's & on these few occasions I  enjoyed speaking with him.  He was rich with stories of famous models & actresses whom he had photographed during the height of a Manhattan mesmerized by Andy Warhol & Edie Sedgwick. His stories usually ended up with some serious dish about which ones were untouched natural beauties & which ones were "retouch nightmares" as he jokingly referred to them.  He knew I was always eager to be his captive audience of one & like any vintage fashion junkie, I listened with pure intent & always had a list of questions & inquiries which I think he found quite entertaining.   I will never forget one particular discussion when I asked him about the best beauty secrets of that era & what he thought of modern beauty treatments.  "Darling, if you never want to age a day in your life you must never allow your emotions to be seen upon your face."
 "What?", I asked "Wait, what do you mean?" "I Mean ( he continued) that if one never wants to see lines upon their face they should never allow the world to know how they really feel & that includes intense happiness as well as dismay"  I pondered that idea for a moment & I'm sure the look of amazement & confusion upon my face was indeed NOT hidden.  He went on, "I once knew a fabulous model from the 60's who lived by that rule & she practiced it immensely to the point where it became second nature. Oh she never showed emotion upon her face & do you want to know something?"    "What What?!"  I prodded,  hanging on to his every syllable.   "I happened to bump into her some 25 years or so later while having lunch in Greenwich Village & her face was still seamless with zero wrinkles. Just as it had been when she was 24!"   "NOWAY!", I gasped, "that's incredible!"  "Oh yes indeed" he said "but of course she was also alone, lonely, miserable, had no companion, no friends & NO SMILE."   As he began to roar with laughter I knew I had been taken.  "SMILE, LIVE & ENJOY every moment of LIFE my dear & you'll always be beautiful!!"   I can still feel the warmth of his wrinkled smile.

Wishing you a gorgeous day filled with smile lines full of laughter.
Hepburn Hugs & Ric Ocasek Dreams

xo
Birdee Bow

Five Little Words

I recently stumbled across a great Tumlbr entitled Five Words Tell A Story.  The premise of this brain child of a blog is to bring a situation or message to life in merely five words, daily. Truly brill!  I've always believed the simplest route between the beginning & ending of a sentence is the most sincere. It's amazing how in almost any situation? Five words suffice.  We've all experienced the long winded versions in life haven't we?  The compliment that seems to go on just a bit too long & suddenly becomes awkward or the feedback (albeit negative or positive) that seems to wax on a minute or two past it's expiration date leaving us with that undeniably uncomfortable feeling.

 Don't get me wrong, I adore long conversations.  I CRUSH the art of a good convo! Indeed a rare & treasured commodity of which I am always in search of & enamored by, but I also find enormous beauty in the simplest of words.  

Simple words when they are spoken from the heart in the most surprising of moments..

I believe in 'em stronger,

 they hit me harder & they stick with me longer. 

You are Beautiful & Alive

Hepburn Hugs & Ric Ocasek Dreams
Birdee Bow

The Real Glass Slipper

Earlier this week I saw a young girl with her mother searching for a Halloween costume.  I overheard the girl say, "but, mom I just wanna be a princess!"  The mother, in complete dismay at this idea responded, "I know honey but there are sooo many other choices..let's not decide too quickly! What about an astronaut?"  I loved overhearing this conversation.  I knew exactly what the mom was thinking & I knew exactly what she wanted to avoid.  The dreaded Princess Effect.  Ohhh, it  is indeed a controversial idea isn't it? And I would assume if you are the mother of a daughter it's something that weighs heavily upon your mind & often.  Quite a balancing act: Femininity & the modern girl.  I gotta say that I clearly remember watching Cinderella as a little girl.  I also clearly remember being completely horrified.  Do you remember how disdainfully EVIL the stepmother & the terrible stepsisters were?  WOW. The ugliness from within literally dripping off of them with each move & wicked gesture; every ounce of their being completely saturated with jealousy & shallow ambition.   I also remember how much I adored the mice,  Jaq & Gus & all of Cinderella's little friends who came to the rescue when she needed help. Together they made it all happen. They loved Cinderella because she possessed a beautiful heart & she cared for them & fed them & loved them even when the others paid them no attention.

I remember the party scene & that killer pale pink dress & the way she danced across the ballroom floor as if she had always belonged there.
I remember the shimmer of that glass slipper...
But that's all I remember.
I don't remember the ending or even the face of the Prince.
What did he look like?
What was his story?
I think he was wearing blue?
I don't think his character made me laugh or even giggle..
Apparently not much of a personality.
Just Sayin'

 I only remember the story of Cinderella as the story of  true friendship & the utter fabulosity of helping one another out when we need it most.
 Finding those people in our lives & surrounding ourselves with love..

 that's the real Glass Slipper.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN

Hepburn Hugs & Ric Ocasek Dreams

xo

Birdee Bow

glitter snow angels & snappy slope ensembles..

                                             view from my window 10/26/11

"When I no longer thrill at the first snow of the season.. I'll know I'm growing old. "
                                                             Lady Bird Johnson

There's something about the first snow of the season in a mountain town that makes me feel like every thing's gonna be ok.  It's a beautifully quiet calm in a sea of white serenity where all seems new again.  Ok, so it's also cold, seriously  annoying to get around in, completely inconvenient & something for which I never feel quite prepared. I admit I'm completely uneasy about the whole letting go of Autumn thing & falling into winter often feels more like a super hero style leap rather than the soft & gentle backward tumble of the snow angel scene in
 Love Story.

The first snowfall of the year has a way of making me feel small; small in the sense that life continues on in a forward motion whether or not I'm ready for it.  Whether I've reached concrete conclusions about the past or desired decisions about the future or whether or not I've even yet to reach for the North Face jacket in the back of the closet..yep,
 winter won't be waitin'

I hate to say it but,
She's ruthless..
She could NOT care less.
So, to her I'll just say, 
"Bring it!"
Oh, but first I'll say somethin' like, 
"Ima show you how quick a stylish girl can pull it all together"

(ok & then I'll say "Bring it!", but with a lot of attitude & in some super chic Hepburn inspired ensemble for the slopes)

Wishing you only decisions that light up your heart & perfectly outlined snow angels..in glitter
 Oooo yes, snow angels outlined in Glitter

Hepburn Hugs & Ric Ocasek dreams
xo
Birdee Bow

wings..they set us free

"I wanted to fly so you gave me your wings..."               Michelle Branch 

The more I live the more I truly believe we travel through this life on borrowed wings.  Those who pick us up when we're feeling low & those who love us through the beautiful & the ugly times too. I'm 100% convinced we can only soar when we're among those who somehow make us weightless.  After all, flying takes a lot of courage don't you think?  But it's also effortless. Maybe we never know when our feet have actually lifted off the ground..maybe that's the secret.  Maybe we're only supposed to recognize the magic of borrowed wings when our feet once again touch the ground. 

The longing keeps us breathing, keeps us sane, keeps us looking for all the rainbows while we stand drenched in the rain..

& If we're really lucky?
They come along again to set us free

Hepburn Hugs & Ric Ocasek Dreams
Birdee Bow

Beauty Between The Blinks

The Indian Summer of life should be a little sunny and a little sad, like the season, and infinite in wealth and depth of tone, but never hustled.

Henry Adams

Dear Indian Summer,

I have fallen for you & I am afraid to even blink..  In full swing, you are such a magical, beautiful & relaxing time.  I'm afraid if I close my eyes even for a second? You might disappear, but isn't that the way it is with all beautiful things? Perfect breezy afternoons of inspired writings, warm outdoor dining weather in the evenings & sun, sun, sun everywhere in between.  I would happily chase after your fleeting perfection forever.. Oh sure, I know that Metaphorically speaking, you are a reference to the late bloomers. The unexpectedness of bloom from that which has seemingly lost its' relevance. Maybe that's why you hold such a huge place in my heart. Who can say when ANY living thing has lost it's relevance?   I know you would agree, sweet Indian Summer, that relativity is in the mind of the beholder & unexpectedness is the key to all magic in this life. Thank You & if I do lose you between the blinks?  I'll be anxiously waiting...hoping you suddenly appear again next year.
 
Wishing you moments as unexpectedly stunning as an Indian Summer & a relevance without expiration. Beauty between the blinks..
Hepburn Hugs & Ric Ocasek Dreams
    Birdee Bow

"Have mercy old bus be packed up tight" ZZTop

"I'd rather go by bus"

Prince Charles

Lengthy bus ride recently in the early a.m. Inner city to the burbs & I found myself in a standing room or rather, standing bus only situation.   Heavy fog had created a huge backup in the Friday morning bus plan & buses were packed to the gills.  With barely enough room to squeeze on with my snappy Vera Wang slouch bag en tow I reached for the overhead holding bar at the very front of a packed moving vessel.  And then, a booming Brooklyn accent of a voice, "Yknow, my Ride is Popular! You made it to the VIP section!!"  He had no more than finished his sentence when I noticed his black leather driving gloves...gloves complete with silver metal rock star studs. Yeh, this bus driver meant business. With pitch black wayfarers & a sly grin, he was looking a bit more like a ZZ Top member than your normal run of the mill bus driver & I had a feeling this could be an interesting ride.  Coming to a total halt in a fog filled jumbled traffic jam, he removed one studded glove & reached for a zip lock baggy filled with baby carrots.  Yes, I said baby carrots. "Better to see the road with!" he mumbled as he hurriedly scarfed'em down & then without missing a beat he whipped out the intercom on a packed bus of grumpy (& now late for work) commuters inching their way down a cloud covered highway.  Spillin out quirky tidbits & witty one liners he serenaded us with words about how being on time isn't really all it's cracked up to be & how even the term  fashionably late is a mysterious virtue of sorts. Suddenly a few laughs began & then another & another until pretty soon the entire bus became an all out hysterical howl. Not only was everyone laughing, but actually speaking & dare I say interacting with one another?  An amazing event to say the least & one thing was for certain, this guy had maddlove for his job.

"Ridin On The Bus Til I Cadillac" 

 ZZ TOP

I exited the bus with a smile & actually made it to my destination on time. I couldn't help but reflect as I walked away, about how he had done exactly what he had set out to do.  How he had somehow made me forget the uncomfort of missing a seat. How he had kept not only me, but an entire busload from losing precious non retrievable moments fretting..

"Everything is temporary so eat up the good like it's your favorite ice cream melting away & forget the bad cause it's goin goin gone anyway.."
 Birdee Bow

Studded Leather Gloves & Baby Carrots
xo

FeedForward In Fashion

"It's Your Thing. Do What You Wanna Do"
The Isley Brothers

Feedback. We want it. We love it. Ok, occasionally we hate it, but whether or not we choose to keep it or just leave it? One thing is for certain, we'll ALWAYS be getting it. Most of the time it's free & unsolicited, like a lovingly placed parking ticket upon your windshield or a swell acne breakout a few hours before prom pix. On other occasions it's like a surprise heartshaped sandwich in your lunch box or finding a five dollar bill when slipping your hand into the pocket of last year's winter jacket. Good, bad, great or hideous, I guess the real question here is; Do we Need So Much Of It?

When accounting for time spent receiving feedback, I find it to be a rather staggering amount. This could be partly because I'm a songwriter & performer & that's just part of the game, or maybe  it's the new trend regarding all things in general. Quite frankly? I find it creepy. When did we become so conditioned to await the ever mysterious Nod of approval? When did the "go ahead" factor become so important?  When did we start believing that life is in dire need of a Green light?

At every turn, around every corner, the self proclaimed experts appear, eagerly waiting to bestow a treasure trove of fortune known as (insert ultra cheesy Echo & Reverb sound effects here) FEEDBACK
I challenge you to put pen to paper & write down the last few tidbits of feedback you've received.
No really, I did this & I found it to be the best comedic relief I've had in months.
Definitely something about putting it down in black & white that brings it all into perspective. Writing it out helps to declutter the mind & free up some memory space, so that we can get back to fueling it with fabulous ;)


Dread it, Dig it or Run Away from it, feedback is here to stay but FeedForward is making a very fashionable & much needed comeback.
A Snappy Little Comeback

FeedForward
Bring It
Hepburn Hugs & Van Halen Dreams
Birdee Bow

Right Is Overrated

"DANCE FIRST.  THINK LATER."
Samuel Beckett

The Pause Moment.  We all know it.  It's the second guess in the middle of the forward motion that stops self-assurance in it's tracks.  It's somewhat akin to carrying around a leather bound set of  World Encyclopedias in your backpack. 

Y'know just in case GOOGLE gets it wrong?

 Always a good idea to check, re-check & triple check all data involved with new ideas.
If you want to be Right..

Unless Of Course You Just Wanna Dance..

Or You Just Wanna Laugh....

Or ..couples skate 

Or Come On Come On Get Happy

Or  Unless of course  you're willing to take a chance on Getting It Wrong..

Cause Always Getting It Right??

hmmmm I kinda think it's overrated

"LESS Pause MORE Get It Get It GO"
                        Birdee Bow

Hepburn Hugs & Ric Ocasek Dreams
xoxo

So Uncool.. I Love That

"The only true currency in this bankrupt world is what you share with someone else when you're uncool"

Lester Bangs

I guess we learn pretty early in life about the all consuming importance of COOL.  I mean we really have such a vanishing window of opportunity in which to figure it out don't we?  Gotta act quickly or be forever lost choking in the unfortunate dust known as "uncool".  When I was 9 my sister was 17 & she was the epitome of all things cool. Beautiful long curly dark hair, always dressed to the nines & luxurious long nails which she flawlessly kept painted pale pink. She was always busy doing things that cool kids do & always talking on her fabulously snazzy light up in the dark phone to friends who drove cars.
Her room & her belongings were an obsession & a thing of mystery to me as she always kept her bedroom door locked when she was not at home. My parents allowed this only because I had been busted too  many times rifling through her belongings or trotting around in pink pumps with ill applied mascara & shiny red lip gloss. A constant source of sibling fights & non harmony moments, which of course to me seemed to be blown wayyyy out of proportion. Come on, I would have gladly welcomed her into my room ANY old time she wanted. Why wouldn't she just do the same?

 This particular holiday season our parents threw a party & they allowed my sis to invite her entire class. I remember running around the house begging for things to do as my mom prepared food. Could I please stay up late when they got here? Could I please hand out all the cards for games?  Give out snacks? pick out the music?? I guess it was finally decided that I could act as the handler of all coats as her guests arrived. I was stoked about this idea & took it extremely serious. Wouldn't they all think of me as totally grown up & cool if I was the Coat Check Girl? I would be the fastest coat check girl of all time. Oooo I would steal the spotlight from my perfect sister with my skill & expertise & SHINE before all of her cool friends!  As the night progressed I smushed my nose further & further against the cold front window pane, eagerly awaiting car lights from afar so that I could be On-Guard, ready for new arrivals in need of my coat services.  Quickly grabbing coats from each guest, I ran with determination & utmost speed..

Boy coats in one stack on the bed, Girl coats in another. 

 I can only imagine what a sight of embarrassment I must have been for a 17 year old beauty on her big party night.  I hated the fuss of hair at that age & never understood it, so I kept it above my ears at a boyish length. I never lingered near a brush in fear that my mom might want to use it on me.  My favorite attire was a pair of overalls from my grandpa & a brown cardigan sweater which to this day I still believe to be the softest thing I've ever owned. Anyway, as I carried about my task of importance ( in my favorite outfit) I suddenly heard my sister along with 2 friends who happened to be boys laughing in the hallway,
"Dude WHO is the little boy in overalls pushing his nose up against the window? We started laughing at him from a block away & then he nearly knocked us over grabbing our coats & running. What's up with him? Is He Ok?  Ohhh what? it's your SISTER? Noway hahahaha"

  As they laughed hysterically I crumbled.

 "WHAT? ME?  Are they talking about Me?  A BOY?" 

Was I not the fastest Coat Check Girl Ever?
Did they not notice my expertise? My SKILL?
Was I not COOL?
Nope
Apparently 

Really 

Not 

Cool 


I think a lot changed for me that night.
I'm pretty sure I put away those comfy overalls & that cardigan for good & decided HAIR could be ok I guess.

I often wonder how the world might look so different
How we all might be so different

if No One ever told us

 we weren't Cool

Hepburn Hugs & McQueen Dreams

xo

Birdee Bow

The Ers. Whats Yours?

 "There's Always some reason to feel not good enough & it's hard at the end of the day"  
Sarah McLachlan

Being in the business of music (ok scratch that ) Being in the business of Life is a sure fire way to get caught up in a web which I very abhorrently refer to as the Ers.  The Ers often land with a screaming BOOM! of a voice in the face of adversity, or sometimes as a whispering nemesis in the late night hours. 

 "Suddenly, without warning they appear (insert Psycho shower scene music here)  The dreaded Ers! Those insidious creatures compelling us to tag on an "er" to every validation of  our own existence. Thus creating sentences which begin with Should be & go on to include words like smarter, prettier, wiser, hotter, trendier, richer, older, cuter, bolder, cooler, younger,  faster, funnier, wittier, happier, hipper, taller, stronger, anything&everything-er but always better Better BettER!!! Wreaking havoc upon civilization & seeking to destroy the courage & self esteem of mankind. Oh will this tyranny ever end?"

Yep the Tyranny ends. Right here. Right Now.

Like a Ray Gun empowered with
Grammatical Ammunition, 
FIRE off your own Ers.

 Believer, Thinker, Scene Stealer, Ass Kicker, Doer, Achiever, Fearless Unapologetic Dreamer

The Ers. 

 What's Yours?

Hepburn Hugs & McQueen Dreams
xo
Birdee Bow

Dream Homes & Conscious Choices

"If Barbie is so popular why do you have to buy her friends?"

When I was 8 years old I asked my parents for a Malibu Barbie Dream Home.  I was in awe of Barbie & all the fashionable excellence that she exuded & this particular house had a working elevator in which to house all that GLAM. I mean hello who doesn't have a pink elevator in Malibu? It was pretty much all I dreamt about for months. Hoping, praying that I would wake up on Christmas morning to find that glorious pink palace awaiting my ever eager party planning 2nd grader hands.

 Ok, so to know anything of my parents you would have to know that such a pink display of materialism & superficiality?? Yeh, not really their style.  I would even go so far as to say they were probably horrified, not only at my choice of gift, but also at the thought of having to look at a towering piece of withering pink plastic for many days to come. 

Fast forward to Christmas morning: bleary eyed , barely awake & full speed ahead charging toward the Christmas tree & THERE it stood.  My very own 2 story barbie house. A wooden house. An 1800s farm house handcrafted by my parent's own hands.  No ordinary 1800s farm house, mind you. This was an every detail thought out with great historical accuracy style farm house. Each piece of furnishing (wood burning stove included) carved by my dad & painstakingly painted to perfection. Every piece of bedding & curtain hand crafted & sewn with love by my mom.  Ok, I'm not gonna lie.  I was secretly mortified.  I mean where would Barbie park her corvette??  In the stables?  And what was to become of all those fancy parties I had planned?  Where would we hang the disco ball?  Okok, I reasoned, she would just have to call up her friends on that hand crank phone on the wall instead of the shiny gold one I had seen in the magazine, it would be ok. It wouldn't be the end of my world. Would it?   I could improvise.  I mean, I could glam up a butter churn & a wood pile, couldn't I?  Ohhh mannn, all I could think was how will I face my friends? WHO will ever want to playdate the girl with the weirdo barbie house with NO ELEVATOR??  

And then a funny thing happened,  I began to listen as my parents explained, in great detail, all the features of the house & how they had to sneak away to work on it together every night after I would go to bed & how they just knew I was going to discover their fabulous surprise. I will never forget the look of excitement & joy they had  in hiding this great secret from me for many months & the sense of immense accomplishment they had for their countless hours of hard work. Right then, at that moment, with the wisdom of an 8 year old,  I remember making a conscious decision. I decided to LOVE that house. I was gonna LOVE it no matter what. And I did. Ok, so it was hard in the beginning, but over time I learned that all my friends were actually  intrigued by an 1800s farm house.  Every friend who visited wanted to know "Did they really have to pump their water from a well?" &"is that really what a refrigerator looked like back then?" & "did your dad really carve this bathtub?"  Over the months & the years, I grew to adore that house more than any other thing I owned. And as I watched my friend's plastic palaces begin to fade & wear (even witnessing a barbie elevator breakdown or two)  I realized more & more the value of handmade over store bought & I still own every piece of furniture made with love from that house. I plan to pass it on, along with a lesson I learned that day..

 Love is always a conscious choice.
  I choose it.

Hepburn Hugs & McQueen Dreams

xo

Birdee Bow