R-E-S-P-E-C-T

Friday was my annual review at work. I wore a suit.

I was also approached by a number of people asking why I was wearing a suit on a Friday -- an habitually casual dress day in the Federal government. When told I was dressed for my review the responses ranged from a snort, to confused looks, to being called a suck up.

Seriously? A suit that says I respect professionalism, am proud of my work ethic, and yes, want to present a polished appearance is snort-worthy? Apparently, this makes me a bit of an amusement.

Am I the only one who positively cringes when I see baseball hats, bare midriffs, and shorts proclaiming the wearer to be juicy, strolling through the White House tours? Or that flip-flops are the preferred summer business attire staple?

As most of you know, I love clothes so I do march to the beat of my own drum in that regard.

My colleague and I often debate the purpose of professional clothing or the fact that professional attire should not fade in to anachranistic oblivion. I often come away from these discussions with the uncomfortable feeling that I am a snob.

If I am, than I will own that. In this instance.

My colleague has a valid argument that often people feel they should be judged on the quality of their work not the type of clothes they are wearing. This makes sense. I do not prescribe to the dictate that only a suit can look professional - there are plenty of professional outfits that do not involve the black or navy suit - but so often we zoom right past the compromise zone. I have arrived at meetings with outside contractors who are wearing unpressed khakis, sneakers and a sweatshirt.

And I think - Oh, they must have forgotten they had a meeting today. Sorry, but that is my first thought.

Let us not fool ourselves. Clothes are not what drive business decisions, nor is your business attire a competency in your performance evaluation. Clothes are, however, another way of expressing who you are, how you want to be perceived and they can set the tone for interactions with others throughout your day.

When we walk out of our front door every morning, we begin a journey of mutual respect in interacting with our professional colleagues that day. I respect the decisions and values you make today and vice versa. I respect your time and energy you are sharing with me today. For me, part of that is showing up presenting a tableau of polished, prepared professionalism - from my brainstorming abilities to my pressed skirt and combed hair.

My review went really well. I am pleased and my future looks bright. My director never once commented on my suit or the fact that it was a Friday so I need not have dressed up. I doubt she even noticed.

RECESSION FASHION P.S.

So snow came, it lingers and it shall come again. SOS!! Save your shoes!! While still looking stylish! Try these yummy boots on for your commuting pleasure.

http://tinyurl.com/ygg5pnr

Safety First

I like to be liked. It is not as if I go along to get along but I do work hard not to ruffle feathers. I have had my Sally Fields' moments when I realize people like me and it amazes me.

I admit I tend to sugarcoat things, worry too much about what others think of me, and spend a lot of energy being deferential to complete strangers. I keep my cards close to my chest for the simple reason that well, I would rather play it safe.

A lot of effort goes into living your life in neutral. You fear that moment when emotion might overtake careful control. I do not really know when that fear of isolation took over my socialization skills but I battle it back continually.

During the State of the Union, amidst the pundits, the anticipation, the politics and the prose I envied President Obama. He stood up in front of the globe and said just what he thought. He told off the Supreme Court, chastised the Republicans and even smacked his own party on the nose. Just like that. He did it knowing he might lose some friends, anger people and be validly refuted.

It was like watching an American Idol audition -- horrifying yet you wished you had the guts to do it.

This blog is a sign that I am making great strides in moving outside my comfort zone. What if you do not like what I have to say? What if you never realized I held that opinion? What if...my daughter grew up to view me as inauthentic?

Life gives you many chances to hide your feelings and many opportunities to share them. You can find yourself agreeing with someone because you have known them forever or keeping quiet about something because someone you admire would not agree with you. The perspective needs to change for me, I need to value my own voice.

I will continue to strive toward my own Sally Fields' moment where, I like me, I really like me.

RECESSION FASHION P.S.

I received a Nine West gift card for my birthday - oh lucky me!! - so I have been scoping the site. I adore these on trend for spring gladiators (in grey leather) to wear with capris, minis and jeans!!

http://tinyurl.com/yep27gw

Little Bowls

**Today I am honored to share with you a piece from a guest blogger. Shelley Cohen is an amazing woman, mom, wife, environmental warrior and, luckiest of all for me, friend. I hope to showcase more of her life snapshots that she has so artfully displayed in today's post.**

Little bowls. I have tons of little bowls. Little bowls stacked in cabinets and stored in drawers. Little bowls for dunking, little bowls for condiments like wasabi and spicy mustard, and even little pickle and olive bowls.

In my world, lots of little bowls translates to being a hip hostess. I could throw a mean party and serve an array of exciting hors d'oeuvres, petit fours, and munchies to satisfy even the most discerning palates. Each hors d'oeuvres required it own array of specialty bowls to complete the taste and visual look of the dish. Cocktail franks with gourmet dipping mustards, sushi dunked in wasabi and soy, and mini crab cakes with a dollop of old bay sauce were all crowd pleasers. As the hostess, I was thrilled by the chorus of ohhhs and ahhhs received from grateful guests.

Now-a-days, my little bowls have transitioned to a different, and some would argue, more meaningful/less shallow purpose. My little bowls fit perfectly into the grasp of a special pair of little hands. Ten little fingers wrap delicately around my hip little bowls, carting around precious cargo like blue berries and Cheerios, bobbling up and down as she darts from room to room and tries gingerly not to spill. Her palate is equally as discerning, and her reactions equally as appreciative. Except now, verbal accolades are reduced to one word… WOW.

I may no longer be the ‘hostess with the mostest’, but now I am the mommy with lots of little bowls of love.

RECESSION FASHION P.S.
The beaded shoulder epaulet is rather trendy at the moment - but it likely will not be this summer or next fall. For $68 satisfy this unique and subtle trend with an understated dress.
http://tinyurl.com/yf3sjfg

Betting the Millennium

Yesterday I spent the day at the Microsoft offices in Chevy Chase, MD for a unique meeting between Microsoft bigwigs, a small federal agency and a handful of teachers and students from around the country.

There are 100 million youth ages 3 to 24 in the United States. The Millennial Generation, as they have been tagged, has a 31% minority population that makes them more diverse than the current U.S. population of adults aged 25 and older.

So yeah, Microsoft is interested in these folks! But not necessarily the way you think. Yesterday's meeting was to formally announce Microsoft's START program - a service-learning program focused on technology.

Some of you might be aware of my first professional love - service-learning. Service-learning is an educational pedagogy that integrates service projects with classroom learning. It engages students in the educational process, using what they learn in the classroom to solve real-life problems. In short, it makes the often obscure and repetitive classroom lessons relevant to the student. If implemented correctly, this pedagogy places students in the community in complex service projects that provide them opportunities to put the classroom knowledge to reality - preparing tax forms for elders, providing computer engineering assistance to non-profits, or mentoring ESL students to prepare them for proficiency testing.

It is nothing short of magical to listen to students talk about what it means to be a student in a school that practices service-learning. They get IT. They get what it means to be depended upon, to accomplish something and the reward is in the accomplishment. They can see the future and their place in it.

Yesterday I met five kid from South Philly, Tupelo, Missisippi, Fairfax, VA and New York City's Lower East Side. I have nineteen years of education, travelled extensively, had access to extraordinary resources and people and I was humbled.

We spend a lot of time caressing our youth as they travel the "right" education path - extracurricular activities, sports, unique experiences abroad, internships - it is a formula parents know well. In the meantime, there is another education path equally well travelled - weekends spent refurbishing subsidized housing, evenings spent teaching newly immigrated families how to use a computer, apprenticeships - it is a formula parents should get to know better.

There are 100 million members of the rising generation. There are 100 million opportunities to develop a thoughtful, engaged and prepared citizenry. The global tomorrow is a very different playing field than that to which we have become accustomed. We must replace entitlement with ingenuity and innovation. We must readjust our appraisal of the best and the brightest.

If yesterday is any indication of tomorrow, I am reminded of the old adage "You cannot judge a book by it's cover."

RECESSION FASHION P.S.

Nautical is up for spring and summer! A simple way to make it happen - a tee from Old Navy at a steal!! (Pick the blue/white stripe.)

http://tinyurl.com/yd94rbx

Aquarius

Today is my birthday so no post.

I will be back tomorrow when I am older and wiser.

He Said, She Said, We Said

Birds do it. Bees do it. Even Democrats and Republicans do it.

No one can deny that this has been an interesting week in politics. Game-changing as the pundits are saying or what this new buzz word really means - "Nanny nanny boo boo!!"

I was one of those that used my Facebook status to cite my disdain for the results of the Massachusetts election. The thing about Facebook is that you can rant on there because you are surrounded by like-minded friends you chose. But what happens when a friend is like-minded in values, religion, intellect, and coolness but not politically? What does that do to the comfort zone of your friendship? Does that hinder their rant outlet if you got to your status update first?

I say no. I say, bring it on! Because you are my friend for a reason - you challenge my perspective, broaden my understanding, and call me on my narrow-mindedness.

Marriages and friendships have historically mixed political metaphors. Just this week Cindy McCain provocatively posed for California's "No H8" campaign - I told you this was an interesting week in politics! The McCains, the Matalin-Carvilles, and the Bush the elders (lest we forget Barbara is pro-choice!) - politics apparently makes feisty but do-able bedfellows. I know couples who, when asked which way they voted in an election, answer any way that cancelled out their spouses vote!

So how do we do it? How can we be so passionate about politics to the point that we draw lines and make judgements but still sit across from our spouse and know they are the love of our life or have a spirited conversation with a friend and come away from it thinking she is so much more together than we are? But they are Republicans! Or Democrats!!

At the risk of sounding grandiose, it is because we are human. Political parties are here today, gone tomorrow but that friend will always be there. Friendship and understanding and acceptance are greater than any political divide. I kind of think Ted Kennedy would agree with me.

RECESSION FASHION P.S.

Vintage is in. Vintage can be $ or $$$. Vintage can also be hard as heck to track down. Here is some faux vintage at your fingertips for just $.

http://tinyurl.com/yznf24v

A Rat's Dreams in the Year of the Tiger

I am a rat. Often charming, compassionate, idealistic, and adaptable. But I can also be verbose, possessive, bossy, anxious, and opinionated. My sister is a monkey – curious, creative and smart. My sister is the one who informed me that I was a rat. She introduced me to Chinese astrology and now I diligently check my seasonal home feng shui, keep my golden rooster on my desk for success and read my monthly horoscope. I like being a rat – in the constant up and down of life, monitoring my rat well-being lends some stability and control.

Plus, my husband is a rat too. And in a spectacular turn of good fortune, my daughter is a rat as well. We are a family of rats and in the Chinese astrological realm, that is a very auspicious achievement.

So on the scale of things being a rat is pretty good.

I am also a baby buffalo and occasionally a bunny.

I apparently had a cute nose as a child. Clearly, I outgrew it. But the nose begat the name and I am forever known in the family as bunny. As the youngest there are perks. There are the obvious ones - you get away with a lot, you are doted on, you get out of a lot of responsibilities. But you also remain perpetually 7 years old in the eyes of your family. Thirty odd years, a law degree and a daughter of my own later and I am still “Bunny” to my mother in the middle of Nordstroms.

And it is not merely Bunny. It is Buh-uh-ny. My mother was born and spent her early years in Kentucky and raised the rest of her life in Richmond and Tidewater Virginia – she is southern through and through. You may think that Bunny has two syllables but you would be wrong, it has three. And my high school and college friends still crack themselves up when they call out “Hey buh-uh-ny!”

I think of all the animals I am in my life I am most proud to be a baby buffalo. I must confess that this moniker was given to me in frustration. I was a child with my own ideas, a young adult who was polite but did things her own way and an adult who has her own mind. It was my mother who called me baby buffalo and it was not like being called bunny – there was no cuteness implied.

While a strong, independent woman herself my mother is not overly thrilled with dissension in the ranks. When we were little she told us lightning would strike if we moved from whatever spot we were told to sit. I, however, questioned everything and am not one to take things at face value. This did not go over well. I am, shall we say, inquisitive with a large side of suspicion. As a child I argued with Walter Cronkite during the evening news and cornered my mother’s cocktail party guests to debate the wisdom of Reagan’s policies. I determined which homework assignments were a blatant waste of time and refused to do them. This went over even more poorly in my family.

Thus, the baby buffalo emerged. Some families have black sheep, mine has the baby buffalo.

While I strongly believe in order and the necessity of laws and rules, I am passionate about making sure everyone can participate in something as comfortably and effectively as possible for that individual. I do not find standardized anything to be an effective assessment. I will push back against the norm and against the very idea that just because this is how it is and always has been, is how it should be. How do you know that doing it differently won’t net you better or more interesting results? In law school I obtained a spot in a highly coveted 3L seminar taught by the dean of the law school. The seminar required weekly papers but I felt I could better express myself through epic poems. I convinced the Dean and got an A in the seminar. To this day my husband, another law school alum, still blanches at that story.

Now that I am a mother myself with my little rat family, I think a lot about the parallels of my life and what my daughter’s life will be.

She is an only child and with that comes the inevitable frozen in time perception that she is my itty bitty forever. And so I imagine in thirty years I too, will find myself standing in the Point of Vue department at Nordstroms calling “Boo-ooo, come see this great dress!”

My daughter is already a rat through and through. She is charming – complete strangers will stop us on the street to tell us she is cuter than their grandchild. She is adaptable – sleeping through touchdowns at a Penn State football game is no small feat.

But the animal I really hope to see her cultivate is the baby buffalo. I can see the characteristics are in their nascent stages – when she holds her hand over the cat food dish – not touching it as she knows she is not supposed to, just hovering, demonstrating that she’ll not touch it in her own way. She is a passionate personality who, will debate, using her tiny vocabulary, the finer points of things with you with great seriousness and not rest until you respond. She will study a puzzle toy then take it apart and put it back together correctly once – but then she will spend the rest of the time putting it together in different ways. I cheer her on in exploring the different and unexpected.

And I fully expect I may not appreciate the baby buffalo when she is thirteen but I hope that she will appreciate that I understand the importance of being a baby buffalo in life.

RECESSION FASHION P.S.

February and March are comfort months - comfort food, comfort clothes - this sweater is perfect!

http://tinyurl.com/yj3kpdd

Big

I do not know which to comment on first - the fact that people are mad at the NY Times bloggers, who called Christina Hendricks "big" or the fact that "big" is an insult.

It is like two steps forward, one step back. It is about time that we, the public, give a little guff to those that call out size negative zero actresses for being fat. I think I am actually shell shocked that people are annoyed that Ms. Hendricks was called out for looking...well, enviably curvaceous. Are we the same people that will only shop at Banana Republic because their size 8 is labelled a size 6?! Well, good for us I guess.

So, about this word "big". In polite society ladies with a certain extra whoop-de-doo were described as "big boned" or "big girls". White gloved or not we know that "big" means "fat". Well, if Christina Hendricks is fat, baby bring on the chocolate cake!

In all seriousness, our perspective of weight is so scarred we no longer have a rational lens through which to view normal. As a society we are obese. From our sedentary lifestyle behind a computer / Wii / television screen we obsess and harp on the weight of celebrities. We hunt for cellulite on their bikini clad bodies, we are scandalized when they are photo shopped on the cover of magazines, and we scoff at the fact that they wore a strapless dress when their arms were jiggly. All the while we eat what we want, eschew the gym, and grouse about our tight waisted pants.

I don't give a rat's padonkey donk that they are paid to look great. They are not paid to be insulted about their curvaceous body when in fact their body, in this case, is a close representation of a good portion of the population.

I propose Ms. Horyn and Mr. Port of the NY Times wiggle their esteemed rear ends down the red carpet at the Oscars. I would even pay them to look great.



RECESSION FASHION P.S.

This little gem has been around for awhile - it satisfies the statement necklace craving with recession sensibilities!

http://tinyurl.com/yj4ybus