Shuesday: Big Love, Big City

And then there are New York weddings, when people wear black on days when it's ninety five degrees, and then complain there's no air conditioning in the hundred year old church.

At least your shoes are in love. Knots, that is.

Must haves: I blame Martha

There's something somehow appealing about fresh eggs. For brunch, for baking, for the pretty colours of Martha's Araucana chickens. And Omlet makes it so easy to put your own little chicken run together!

I'm sure the neighbours wouldn't mind ...

Also available for rabbits!

Daily Candy

Shuesday: Put your best (frontier) foot forward

When starting a new life, especially on the other side of the Continental Divide, it's often best to nod to local fashion classics. I'm sure these Gucci sandals can line dance with the best of them. And aren't we glad Saks delivers?

In which the Misses Bennet encounter Twitter

Pride and Twitterverse

TheRealJaneAusten:
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of good fortune must be in want of a wife.

MrsB:
A Mr Bingley--worth 50,000 followers a year--has joined Twitter! He's brought a friend, Mr Darcy--worth 100,000 followers a year! Pls RT

MrsB:
@JaneB @LizzyB @MaryBsaphorisms @KittyB @LydiaB I will have one of you girls married into internet fame yet. Just you wait.

LizzyB:
@MrsB But mother, I think we can pull ourselves up by our dooce-straps just fine.

MrsB:
Blogcasting: How to find husbands for your daughters: http://tinyurl/momblog Now with free giveaway from our Etsy embroidery shop. Pls RT

LizzieB:
@JaneB If I could love a man who would love me enough to take me for a mere 50 followers, I should be well pleased...

LizzieB:
@JaneB ...but such a man wouldn’t be sensible & I could never love a man who was out of his twits. LOL

For more, go to Under the Mad Hat

Ummmmmm

Why didn't I dress like this when I was in high school? And don't blame the uniform.


I'm putting it down to the fact that she's a Florentine. Although I think I had the strand of knotted pearls ...

The Sartorialist

Self preservation

I take care of myself. Daily sunscreen, gym visits 2-3 times a week, relatively healthy consumption of food and alcohol, and no smoking. Occasional facials and other spa treatments, dips into wacky products that promise far more than they deliver - we've all done it.

But I can't imagine even wanting to look like this at 85:

(...) Ms. Vanderbilt could easily pass for 25 years younger. She still has the high cheeks and the wide, stretchy smile she flashed back in the ’80s, when she was selling jeans on television. She has a Brahminish, boarding-school accent but a down-to-earth steely determination. On days when she doesn’t write she paints or makes collages and Joseph Cornell-like “dream boxes,” some of which have been featured in literary magazines.

“I’m always in love, that’s one of my secrets,” she said recently, sitting in the living room of her apartment on Beekman Place. “I’m determined to be the best I can be for as long as I can, and when I’m not, I have my plans. I walk a lot and watch my diet. That’s the key of it. I’ve always had a lot of energy.”

Love is the answer to looking 25 years younger than you do? 'Cause there's nothing teen age-ish about my smile lines ...

Wednesday's Wordle: Emerald Revolution

Wordle

Shuesday: Evening wedding

For an evening wedding in the city, silver with a little sparkle is the way to go. Watch out for the four inch heel - these are for NBA brides. (And they're on sale!)

Stolen, not stirred

Totally borrowed from BS ... now at Wordpress!

• The perfect outfit: Jeans, a sexy top, a soft sweater-wrap, heels, and the perfect bag.
  
• The perfect meal: Do the blue cheese-stuffed olives in my martini count? Why can't I have one for each meal? Because breakfast is definitely juice, a good americano and the definitive croissant, but that doesn't help me at 8:30 pm. And what about dim sum?
  
• The perfect hangover cure: Two Advil, large glass ice water, previously noted good americano, freshly squeezed juice (preferably made by someone else, in a place where you don't have to hear the juicer), previously noted perfect croissant, but this time with scrambled eggs, cheese and Sriracha.
• The perfect road trip: Convertible, big straw hat, heading out of the city to the beach, tunes on, and the smell of suncreen with a hint of coconut in the air.
  
• The perfect facial feature: What is it with the perfect? I'm also going to go with eyes, but, like BS, yes, ask me about my favorite body part instead and I'll say collar bones. Mine, that is.
• The perfect drink: An actually dirty dry Sapphire martini, blue cheese-stuffed olives, up (because people still ask). Also, a glass of Lillet blanc, one ice cube.
  
• The perfect song: Is it bad if I say Freedom 90? This is too dependent on everything else in the moment.
  
• The perfect sign of affection: Ummm, that depends. A lot.
  
• The perfect afternoon: Sidewalk cafe, previously noted glass of Lillet, people watching from behind sunglasses with a girlfriend. Also, unlimited champagne brunch for 4-6 friends.
  
• The perfect vacation: Waking up on clean white sheets in a puddle of sunshine, excessive relaxation, at least one cultural opportunities, available and cheap fresh local food, (and yes, hotel sex).
• The perfect invention: I mean, this week, Skype is looking good. But definitely the corkscrew.
  
• The perfect type of wedding: Open air, but under a roof that isn't a tent, fewer than 75 people, healthy combination of laughter and tears, beautiful flowers, endless glasses of champagne and a lighter than air white cake.
  
• The perfect album: This category would just date me beyond all recognition.
  
• The perfect accent: One feels fairly obliged to say Scottish at this point, but we've always been a fan of the Brits in general.
  
• The perfect date: Bespoke cocktails, delicious, but not heavy, dinner, and something out of the ordinary. Surprise me, in a good way.
  
• The perfect weather: Eighty degrees, no humidity, light breeze, occasional fluffy white clouds.
  
• The perfect party: Ten to twelve people, awards show, champagne cocktail fountain.
  
• The perfect sport: I mean, rugby, obviously. Quite.
  
• The perfect thing to say: I mean, "I love you," obviously. Unless it's not true. How about "Thank you."
  
• The perfect day of the week: I want to say Sunday, but there is that feeling of impending doom that kicks in around 4:30 ... unless you're still tipsy from brunch, in which case you're probably at home, napping in the sun puddle. How about Sunday of a three day weekend?
  

Summer drinks: Part 1

So what if it's in the low 70's and raining? There are summer cocktails to be had, and I've just whipped up at new one.

New to me, at least. I can't help it if others have made it elsewhere at the very same time. Aren't we glad we're not scientists, competing to publish?

And really, as much as we love it, we can't drink Pimm's all the time ...

FG Lillecuke*

1. Cut two thin slices cucumber, place in martini glass, freeze.
2. Cut three thick slices cucumber, quarter, and add to the bottom of a chilled shaker.
3. Add ice, a liberal splash of Lillet, and enough Hendrick's Gin to make one martini.
4. Shake.
5. Remove martini glass from freezer, pour drink over cucumber slices.
6. Serve.

* (I am completely open to other, better, names for this. In fact, please, for the love of god ...)

Wednesday's Wordle: Top Chef Masters

Wordle

Shuesday: The outdoor wedding

Outdoor weddings can be lovely, but they can be a challenge shoe-wise. Instead of high heels that sink into grass, try a wedge.

Wednesday's Wordle: We have the power to make the world we seek

Cairo Speech

Shuesday: Beach wedding

If you must be married ocean-side, I suppose bare feet are de rigueur, but in case there's a painful stone walkway involved, why not slip in and out of these Gucci thongs.

Pretty and pink, to go with the sunset.