keris stainton

Why can't all buses be Orla Kiely-patterned?

[via Apartment Therapy]

Beastly

Harry went back to preschool on Monday and this time he's going five mornings a week (last year, he only went three). Usually he spends Tuesdays and Thursdays with Grandma so I can work, but I thought it would ease the transition (for both of us - I've loved spending so much time with him this summer) if he stayed with me each afternoon. It's been working out really well.

I take him to preschool and walk back through the park then have breakfast, do some work, pick him up, run home (literally, we ran the entire way yesterday - with Harry shouting, "Run, Middy! Run!" with the result that last night I could barely walk) and then he's so tired that all he wants to do is watch CBeebies and play with his trains.

Yesterday afternoon it was so lovely that I kept trying to interest him in going outside. "Harry? Do you want to go in the sandpit?" "No. Beebies." "The trampoline?" "No. Beebies." "Oh! How about we go and blow bubbles?" "No. Beebies." I reckoned it was fair enough since when I'm worn out I just want to slob in front of the TV too.

This morning he wasn't at all happy to go. He cried before we left the house, but was his usually cute and happy self all the way there ... until I came to leave. He's incredibly strong and he smacks into me and sticks like a magnet. I literally can't peel him off me. Eventually I set up some trains, said bye, gave him a kiss and left.

But then I looked back and saw his little face crumble. So I went back and got magnetised again. It was so sad. We sat on the floor rocking, with him wailing and me sniffling. Eventually one of the teachers (?) managed to separate him from me and he waved bye at the window looking reasonably happy. And I sniffled my way home.

I stopped at the newsagents to pick up a copy of the latest Practical Parenting - in which I've got an article about reading to children (including you, Cara!) - and spotted this:

How gorgeous is that? I really want it. Except it costs £210. Yowser. (It's from Beasty Bags.)

Joyful Nostalgia!

I've fallen in love with yet another blog. At The Cabin House you can watch as Shayna and Curt (I hope that's right - I haven't *read* the blog in depth, been too busy looking at the pics) renovate their house.

I want this stove *so much*. And I don't even cook.

I've fallen in love...

... no, not with a shampoo.

Did you watch Location, Location last night?

I'm in love with Hastings (or, rather, St Leonards). I'm in love with the house that the pregnant couple bought. And I'm a little bit in love with the pregnant woman. (I really must find a red lipstick that suits me.)

That was really my perfect house (yes, I know, Joyful Nostalgia). It was so beautiful and it wasn't even expensive - £208,000 for five bedrooms? You'd pay more than that where I live and it's not even particularly nice where I live. (You know, the area's nice, the town, not so much.)

And I would really love to live by the seaside. I love old-fashioned seaside towns (I grew up in a seaside town, but it's less old-fashioned and more completely run down, sadly).

I would like to move to St Leonards please. Can you fix it for me?

Joyful Nostalgia!

I don't know what it is with me and little birdies lately, but I love this melamine "tweats dinnerware" from show.

Joyful Nostalgia: Forest Paper by Thinkcollective

How much do I love this wallpaper?

I have no idea how much it costs, but if I had a free wall to stick it on (or any capabilities in the wallpaper hanging department) I would be buying it forthwith.

[via Apartment Therapy]

Books that make me go "Oooh..."

I don't write about books here as much now that I've got Trashionista, but lately I've noticed a cover trend that I LOVE and discovered a book that gave me butterflies, so I thought I'd share.

Broken Biscuits by Liz Kettle. Could the cover be any more perfect? And how much do I now want my name printed on a biscuit?

I read and loved Jerry Spinelli's Stargirl, but I haven't been inspired to read another of his/her (must check!) books until this one.

It's the simplicity, isn't it? Plain background + simple centred picture = Instant Love!

I absolutely would pick this book up because of the cover (how I didn't know until last week that nostalgia is my thing is a mystery to me!) but then I'd read the blurb:

"Summer at Tiffany" is a memoir of the summer of 1945, when Marjorie Jacobson and her best friend Marty traveled from the University of Iowa to New York City, hoping to land sales jobs.

Turned away from the top department stores, they made their way to 57th Street where refusing to be deterred, Marty lead Marjorie into the legendary Tiffany store, and somehow these best friends talked their way into positions as pages-the first women to ever work on the sales floor.

Their workdays found the girls dazzled by the likes of honeymooners Judy Garland and Vincent Minnelli, Marlene Dietrich in her USO uniform, and legendary playboy Jimmy Donohue. They delivered and modeled priceless jewels, nearly lost precious pearls, and encountered Old Man Tiffany himself during a rare visit.

In between getting lost in Harlem (& rescued by police!), witnessing the Eisenhower Parade, VJ Day in Times Square, and mingling with the Cafe Society-Marjorie Heart fell in love, learned lessons and made decisions that would impact the rest of her life, and leave her nostalgic for that one unforgettable "Summer at Tiffany".

New York. The forties. Tiffany. Judy Garland. Glamour! This is the kind of book I become obsessed with and can't rest until I've read it...

Joyful Nostalgia!

You thought I'd forgotten, didn't you? Well, no. (And I haven't seen last night's ANTM finale - it's on tape.)

I love this "Pucci-esque printed pachyderm" from A+R Store. Sadly, it costs $60, which is beyond what I'd pay for a terry-towelling elephant, even with the weak dollar...

Gormless Dorky

This may shock you, but I don't actually know myself very well. Despite the fact that I spent the majority of my waking hours thinking about myself, writing about myself or thinking about writing about myself, I'm still a mystery to me. Partly that's because my stupid brain never shuts up long enough to give me a minute's peace. And partly it's because although I know what I like, I've never really thought about why I like it.

A while ago, thanks to Karen Salmansohn, I discovered Carrie & Danielle. They run a company helping people discover their "style statements" - two words that define who you are. The first word is your essence (80%) and the second word is your unique twist (20%).

It is a compass for designing a life that reflects your best self. From your wisdom to your wardrobe; from your longings to your living room, your business plan, your finances, and the parties you throw--your Style Statement is where your essence meets your expression.

Examples: Elegant Creative, Graceful Innovative, Classic Vitality, Cultivated Magic, Timeless Play

I thought I could do with a style statement of my own, but they cost CAN$500 so I decided to work it out for myself. In order to work out your style statement Carrie and Danielle ask a series of questions, some of which I found on their website. Things like

What’s your favourite colour?
What’s your favourite flower?
What outfit do you feel most comfortable in?
What would you wear to the Academy Awards?
What would you do with a million dollars?
What objects do you collect?
Where do you feel most at home?
Describe your perfect day.
If Annie Leibovitz was to take your photo, and you were in charge of art direction, what would the photo look like?

And, most importantly, why?

I knew that I wanted my first word to be "Joyful" because it's important for me and I'm constantly striving to live my life with joy (and most of the time I feel like I'm succeeding) but the second word eluded me. 

My favourite flower is lavender. Why? Because I like the smell and the colour and it reminds me of my nan. What objects do I collect? Enid Blyton books. Because they remind me of my childhood. Favourite outfit? Seventies style top. Do you see a pattern? I did. Nostalgia. And as soon as I thought of it, it felt right. Joyful Nostalgia.

I'd already made a collage of images I liked to help me work out my style statement and I think it fits perfectly:

I told David about it. He laughed (of course) so I said, "What one word would you use to describe me then?" He said, "Cute." But I'm too old for "cute", I'm going to be 36. Cute! But then on someone's blog (I'm sorry, I can't remember who it was), I saw a link to a HGTV What's Your Style quiz. I filled it in and I was happy with the result:

Nothing stark and modern for you! You're drawn to cozy interiors and a welcoming palette (think soft, sun-bleached  hues). You like our patterns whimsical and your buildings quaint. You enjoy heirlooms with sentimental value, like a rocker that once graced your grandmother's nursery.

Absolutely true. And the style described? "Sweet." Is sweet better than cute? I'm not sure. Anyway, I'm sticking with Joyful Nostalgia and, as such, I've created a new category so I can stick things in there when I find them and perhaps get to know myself a little better in the process...