No one is daring anyone to wear a corset on a hellish day.
Below a list of activities unfolds sure to introduce yesteryear charm and delight. For you are, as poet Henry David Thoreau said, about to be “rich, if not in money, in sunny hours and summer days.”
However shall you occupy them? Perhaps. . .
I hold such fond memories of summertime potluck picnics. The womenfolk would proudly contribute to an appetizing expanse of secret family recipes upon red-checkered cloths. Variation on fried chicken and deviled eggs were flaunted on Fiestaware while soda in technicolor fruit flavors floated in ice. My sisters and I would grapple for black cherry and red cream soda that we gulped down with brownies.
Similarly, we have gathered a buffet of bliss-inspired goods on these pages, sourced from countless artists and cottage industries. Allow yourself to be tempted by something irresistible to satisfy your charmed lifestyle. Continue reading “Shared Memories From Our Founder”
“As perfume doth remain, in the folds where it hath lain, so the thought of you, remaining deeply folded in my brain, will not leave me: all things leave me: You remain.” -Arthur Symons
I believe the olfactory sense is the most underrated. Aroma arouses subconscious moods, unearthing ancient and nearly forgotten emotions of early youth. When I was little, Woolworths would offer tiny bottles of headache-inducing “Blue Waltz” and “Midnight in Paris” for a mere dime that I invested for well-intended Mother’s Day remembrances. I have fond recollections of my sisters and me smearing honeysuckle blossoms on our skin after extracting the bead of honey on our tongues. The mustiness of geraniums and irises conjures early summer bliss. Even sunshine had a fragrance that clothesline garments absorbed. The wild mint that grew profusely along our fence would infuse our tea with a tingling burst.
Signature scents remind us of someone we know who douses the fragrance because it speaks to them. A subtle scent lingered upon our mother’s handkerchiefs while the brand of soap or shaving cream our father used could be detected when he would embrace us. Spicy musk, innocent powders, romantic florals, clean citrus…our partiality towards a perfume denotes our tendencies. Christian Dior is quoted as saying “A woman’s perfume tells more about her than her handwriting.” Continue reading “Summer’s Sweet Bouquet”
The sands are alive with sunshine,
The bathers lounge and throng,
And out in the bay a bugle
Is lilting a gallant song.
The clouds go racing eastward,
The blithe wind cannot rest,
And a shard on the shingle flashes
Like the shining soul of a jest;
While children romp in the surges,
And sweethearts wander free,
And the Firth as with laughter dimples…
I would it were deep over me!
~ William Ernest Henley (1849-1903)
Painting: “Shores of Bognor Regis” by Alexander Mann (1853-1908)
by Robert Louis Stevenson
How do you like to go up in a swing,
Up in the air so blue?
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing
Ever a child can do!
Up in the air and over the wall,
Till I can see so wide,
River and trees and cattle and all
Over the countryside-
Till I look down on the garden green,
Down on the roof so brown-
Up in the air I go flying again,
Up in the air and down!
The lace canopy that shields from torrents and sunbeams possesses a history that spans the centuries back to the East Indies 5000 years past. But the French popularized the hand-held accessory during the reign of King Louis XIV when couturiers would fabricate lavishly trimmed parasols to match splendid gowns. Continue reading “Shade on a Stick”