Signed. Sealed. Delivered.

Well kiddies it’s official. Last night O’Lala and I sent out our applications to teach in Thailand. It was incredibly exhilarating and now we get to play the horrible waiting game as the program reviews our materials. Let’s just say sending everything was a huge relief, especially after the whole ordeal of getting passport photos. Who knew they cost so much, even at CVS? At least I charmed the photo guy to giving me a package deal for them. Can’t say my PR skills don’t come in handy running errands.

I have to admit though, as big as a relief it was sending in the application I now sit with a little anxiety. I guess at every crossroads there comes hesitation. After hitting “submit” it all really came to the forefont that I seriously might be moving to Asia. The thought is both exhilarating and frightening. There are certain things I must admit (as much as I don’t want to) that I will miss. Hanging out with my roomies while shouting at March Madness games, lounging around playing frisbee at the park on a nice Saturday, running around the Esplanade and taking trips to the Arboretum. As precious as these things are to me, I know that the experience coming up will Jack Bauer anything on the table.

Perhaps it’s not the fact that I might be moving to Asia, but rather that we ALL are now graduating and won’t have these opportunities anymore to just coexist with one another. We are still in that grace period where our identity is neither adult nor college student. Maybe my sudden nostalgia for all things Boston is based on the fact that after May 7th, it won’t be the same again.

Well, let’s not talk about fare-thee-wells now. The night is a starry dome.

Chapter 22

The past couple of weeks have been amazing and at the same time a lot to digest.  I think it’s natural that at any point in this life we come across that age old question: What am I doing with my life?  I too am in this boat right now, along with what seems to be the majority of my peers.  Let’s take my life a case study, shall we?

Stats: 22 year old Northeastern Graduate, with honors.  Worked for Boston’s top entertainment/hospitality/PR companies and produced shows for Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week, but still can’t get a good job.  [awesome]

Desires: Would ideally love to move back to NYC and get back in to the fashion circuit.  Another part of me wants to stay in Boston and try to work for the Red Sox.  15% of me wants to say “EFF THIS” and just move to the Vineyard for the rest of my life where things are more simple.  And then there’s everything in my being that wants nothing more than to move back to Europe and find a synthesis for all my heart’s desires.

The Rest: Since moving back to the States it’s been sincerely hard for me to feel as if I’m “home”.  While I was in Miami over New Year’s with the girls from Paris who I absolutely adore, we were lounging poolside when one of them threw me the latest issue of The Economist.  Inside was an article that describes exactly how I feel about being back, entitled “The Others.”  One part in particular hit home the most:

For the real exile, foreignness is not an adventure but a test of endurance. The Roman poet Ovid, banished to a dank corner of the empire, complained that exile was ruining him “as laid-up iron is rusted by scabrous corrosion/or a book in storage feasts boreworms”. Edward Said, a Jerusalem-born Palestinian-American scholar, caught the romance and pain of exile when he called it “a strangely compelling idea, but a terrible experience”. The true exile, he said, was somebody who could “return home neither in spirit nor in fact”, and whose achievements were “permanently undermined by the loss of something left behind for ever”.

The willing foreigner is in exactly the reverse position, for a while at any rate. His enjoyment of life is intensified, not undermined, by the absence of a homeland. And the homeland is a place to which he could return at any time.

The funny thing is, with the passage of time, something does happen to long-term foreigners which makes them more like real exiles, and they do not like it at all. The homeland which they left behind changes. The culture, the politics and their old friends all change, die, forget them. They come to feel that they are foreigners even when visiting “home”. Jhumpa Lahiri, a British-born writer of Indian descent living in America, catches something of this in her novel, “The Namesake”. Ashima, who is an Indian émigré, compares the experience of foreignness to that of “a parenthesis in what had once been an ordinary life, only to discover that the previous life has vanished, replaced by something more complicated and demanding”.

I didn’t leave Boston on great terms and it feels like I came back to an even harder set of circumstances.  Boston and America in general did not have the charm or life that it once held in my eyes and in my heart.  I had to burn every bridge when I left Boston, so it was like starting over in the worst way possible.  Moreover, I had built a life in Paris and quite a stable one at that with amazing people, traditions and routines that I still dream about on a daily basis.   That anxiety, coupled with the stress of senior year and graduating, has left me feeling lost.

Something funny happened to me last week.  My friend Aly asked me to assist her at her job.  She works at an international organization that helps displaced refugees in 3rd world countries make a life here in America.  The family she was picking up at Logan that evening was from the Congo–Lord knows what they witnessed down there.  They didn’t speak english and she needed someone to go with her to translate their French and help get them settled in to their apartment in Lynn.  I graciously accepted to volunteer and assist.  As we greeted them in Logan they looked as they had been traveling for days.  A family of 8 (six of them children) and each family member had one bag.  Not one suitcase, one bag with a zipper on it.  That’s it.

Seeing that struck a chord in my heart that has refused to cease from resonating.  I know I have a lot of stuff, but seeing everything first hand put such a great perspective and knocked me back in to reality.  Granted, I’m in fashion and PR so naturally I have to have a lot of clothing and accessories due to my job description, but I could easily fit all my shoes in to two bags.  Watching them was emotionally draining and rewarding all at the same time.  I don’t know how Aly does it on a daily basis.  The kids were so excited they couldn’t stop tackling me and tickling me.  The smile on their faces showed they didn’t have a care in the world, they were just happy to be.  That innocence children hold is so precious.  The father was concerned and asked a bajilliondy questions all about his children and their english lessons and schooling.

I think about them every night and wonder how they are.  On a semi-related note, my friend got into the graduate program at the institution in Paris I was at for undergraduate.  He wasn’t sure if he was going to go until I told him, “Seriously, if you don’t do this now you’ll never be able to do it again and who knows what it will bring.”   Then I thought to myself, why am I doing this?  Why can’t I give back and do something with my life that’s a little bit more emotionally rewarding than pitching a clothing line or restaurant’s new chef? More importantly, why am I not taking my own advice?!

That sealed the deal.  I’m applying to teach abroad in Bangkok for a year starting in October.

I don’t know what’s going to happen and that thrills me. Home does not feel like home anymore than it did when I returned from Paris, so why not do this adventure and see what happens.  A girl I know who went to Loyola is doing the same thing now and I see her pictures and her stories and I ache to do the same thing.  She’s been volunteering at this orphanage camp on the border of Burma and Thailand.  The children there are refugees from Burma and the majority of them even witnessed their parent’s execution.  Regardless, they still hold that laughter, that smile that brings out the preciousness involved with innocence and a hope that anything is possible.

One tiny detail that makes a huge difference is that one of my closest friends, C.O., will be joining me on the excursion.  She is in the same boat I’m in and we need something to spark our personalities back to life again.  I’m still young, the rat race can wait.  Once I’m on that fashion/PR circuit or whatever I choose, there’s not getting off it anytime soon.  I don’t want to tell my kids or grandkids I spent my 20’s going to work Monday through Friday (sometimes also Saturday and Sunday in this industry) from 9-5.  I want to tell them that I spent a year in Paris, learned yoga at a retreat in India, went sky diving over Interlaken, went scuba diving in Bali, attended a Full Moon Party and picked up snippets of Thai, Mandarin and Japanese on my travels.  The thought of being in Thailand and helping the global effort and exchange of cultures is invigorating to me.  Maybe I was put here to be a translator between cultures.  Who knows, the path might lead somewhere else I could have never dreamed of in my wildest years.  Maybe Travel Channel will ask me to join their forces and I get my own show.  All I know is that I’m excited about the opportunity that is ahead of me.  I’ll wrap it up with the ending paragraph from the article in The Economist.  If you don’t want the story spoiled, I highly recommend you cease reading here! ; )

“But we cannot expect to have it all ways. Life is full of choices, and to choose one thing is to forgo another. The dilemma of foreignness comes down to one of liberty versus fraternity—the pleasures of freedom versus the pleasures of belonging. The homebody chooses the pleasures of belonging. The foreigner chooses the pleasures of freedom, and the pains that go with them.”

Super Triste

Dear Google,

Thank you for making a Super Bowl commercial that hit so close to home, I ended up crying in front of the 20 guests at my own party.  As if I wasn’t missing France enough, you had to go and make this:

Bisous,

A certain Boston girl missing Paris like no other.

Fred Flinstone

Okay let’s be honest.  In my perfect world of blogging and all things Boston/Media/Fashion related, I would be updating this every single time I have a memorable experience.  That being said, I also work three jobs, just finished college (literally on Wednesday) and am trying to figure what the heck I’m doing with my life.

The point is, though I’d like to expand greatly on my nights out, resto experiences, etc, it usually doesn’t happen because I have my hands stirring a bajillion or so pots.  While reading the Zagat blog this morning, however, they informed me of a deal I think is too great to not share with whoever actually reads this.

The last time I was at KO Prime it was with my Paris Roomie and her uncle, aunts, etc.  She picked me to accompany her to dinner and I was, naturally, ecstatic.  Contrary to popular belief, I still hadn’t eaten at KO Prime for a real meal.  I went to the restaurant once for a Boston Magazine/Grey Goose promo.  We had a great conversation over juicy steaks (yum) and flowing wine.  Though our server wasn’t too attentive (I think she might have just been having an off night, or was a newb), overall it was a good experience.

Well, now on Tuesdays and Wednesday Ken Oringer is offering as Zagat puts it “a “retro” all-you-can-eat prime-rib dinner buffet.” Cost: $29.95 per person.

I don’t know about you, but that sounds delightful to me.

In other news, tonight is our holiday party.  I will spend the rest of the day mass cleaning and making caramel popcorn while my other roomies are brewing some homemade egg nog and setting up our fireplace DVD’s.  We even have stockings with our names on them, including one for our cat, that are taped to the plasma tv.

Happy Hanukkah all!

The Holidays

It’s that time of year now.  Tomorrow is December 1st, which means the Chrismukkah season is upon us (I am half Jewish, after all).  This, without a doubt, is my favorite time of the year.  Hands down.  I have fond memories of hanging out with my family, making caramel popcorn with mom, and decorating the tree with my sister, 10 years my junior.  Moreover, let’s just say my family throws kick*ss parties that no one forgets.

That said, I’m trying to not get depressed.  You might be asking, “How could one be so sad during such a joyous season?”  Well, it’s simple.  Last holiday season I was in Paris, where every window display was decorated as if the visual merchandiser was on crack–in a good way.  Galerie Lafayette and Bon Marché resembled the world of Wonka for the fashion obsessed, or anyone who likes sparkly and pretty things for that matter.

The outside of Galeries Lafayette

The best part, though, were the lines of lights that hung effortlessly and illuminated the Champs Elysée.

Looking down the Champs Elysée towards the Arc de Triomphe

To top it all off, the carousel at Concorde was up along with little Christmas shops up and down, where you could taste anything from all over the world.

The Ferris Wheel at Concorde

I’ll never forget the feeling of saundering up and down, tasting candies and eating fresh oysters from Normandie, holding hands with my (then) love.  The only word that even remotely comes close to that sense of euphoria: Magic.

Christmas Market

Needless to say, Boston is not Paris, and love and I are no longer together.  I’m still going to try and make the best of it.  For the first time I’m going to the Boston tree lighting ceremony.  It’s this Thursday and should be a good time, weather permitting.  If you see a girl spiking her Starbucks Peppermint Mocha with nips of Peppermint Schnapps, come over and introduce yourself.  My roomies and I are also throwing a Chrismukkah Party, complete with caramel popcorn, mistletoe, eggnog, Secret Santa (a personal fav), DVD’s that show a fire and play Christmas carols (we have no working fireplace so we had to make due), lights, and a menorah and cute little tree from Urban Outfitters.

Until then, I will continue to walk up and down Newbury hoping to catch some good deals before my New Year’s Eve excursion down to Miami. It might not be the boutiques in the Marais, but it has its own charm in itself.  Being away for so long has made me appreciate this city much more.  Wish me luck!

Santé.

Je veux ton amour.

It’s been a crazy fall, that’s for certain.

I’ve wanted to write here for a long time, however, I’ve found time to be precious.  I can barely schedule time to fold my laundry.  Yeesh.

That said, there have been some interesting things to note.  One, the Ames Hotel opening party.  I guess the only way to describe it would be a well organized zoo.  No detail was spared in this fête and word on the street is that there were over 1,000 RSVP’s.  It could have been a nightmare, but ran very smoothly from what I could see–although no one knows what goes on behind the scenes!

There was a band that played and had great energy on the stage.  It was a great list and a real variety of people.  The usual media was there, but then biochemist and architects to musicians and more.  There was never a dull conversation that’s for sure.  Moreover, all of the help was so courteous.  The girls working the door God bless their souls.  I can only imagine the kind of excuses/bs/etc from party crashers and other non polite people who were in line.  Overall, great event.

Last night we threw a surprise party for our friend.  The last surprise party I went to was when roomie and I were in Paris, and it was her surprise party for her birthday.  I am honestly impressed that we were able to shush 30 or so kids stuffed in a kitchen on the Hill.  In my opinion, there really is nothing better than a surprise party, surrounded by all the people you care about and love.  I’ve never had a surprise party because usually I’m the one who is doing the planning.  Maybe one day though, a girl can dream!

The weather here has been beautiful.  New England in the fall is really something special.  I have a friend from the Sunshine State who should be moving here shortly and I’m kind of upset he isn’t here to see the leaves turn and the smell of fall that comes with it.  I’ve gotten so many runs in, it’s wonderful.  We really have been blessed with sunny days and moderate nights.  It’s let me work more with my wardrobe, I can wear almost anything out and be comfortable.  Having options is really pleasant.

As of recently, I cannot for the life of me get “Bad Romance” out of my head.  C’est la vie.

Bursting in to Fall.

I guess my last post lacked the picture.  I could have sworn it showed up initially, but I clearly need more work.

The picture was a flyer for an upcoming pop-up shop hosted by the lovely Lisa Pierpont at Boldfacers.  Since coming back from Paris, it’s clear that Boston’s culture, fashion, restaurant and overall lifestyle is changing.  Blame it on the economy or what is going on in Menino’s office, the point is that this is not the same Beantown as it was when I left in 2007 to go exploring.  That being said, I think the pop-up shop was a great step in slowly breaking that routine mold this city still plays by, that old “Boston Brahim” mentality.

The pop-up shop was highlighted local jewelry designers around the area.  I was quite impressed with a lot of the ladies.  It’s hard work to be in a studio and create your own pieces, and it’s even harder to be an indie designer in Boston.  Overall, it was important that this inaugural shop be set up.  Boldfacers wants to make this a monthly event, focusing on a different theme each month.  Next month will feature urban street style and underground culture.  As more details surface, I’ll be sure to post them up here to keep people informed.

Building off of that, I feel as if we are suddenly bursting in to this fall season, for better or for worse.  I looked at my Entourage calendar yesterday and almost had a panic attack at what my cab fare expenses might be like come the end of the month.  Regardless of how all the hours I will be putting in to get my company going, write a book (yes, that’s right), and lack of sleep I will be experiencing, I’ll be sure to post it all here.

I’m serious about that last one.  Time to turn over a new leaf.  It is fall, afterall.

Newbury Pop-Up: Seven for all Mankind

As much as I secretly wished to become a mermaid yesterday so that I could breathe underwater and beat the heat, I was forced to remain on land.  While combating the heat I came across something new to Boston: a pop up store!

Pop-up stores became popular in 2007.  A pop-up store is exactly what it sounds like: a store that seems to “pop up” only to close after a certain time period.  The idea is that in a world revolving around Blackberries, iPhones and everything in between, there has been a growing haste in society.  The pop-up shops plan on taking advantage of how quick information is now shared these days.  Uniqlo, Target and others took advantage of this concept in NYC by setting up shop for 4 days.

Boston’s own pop-up store is 7 for all Mankind.  Opening four days ago, the 2,000-square-foot “Wash House” on 160 Newbury St. will be in commission for a mere six months.  As a former Jasmine Sola employee I learned a thing or two about denim.  Seven was always a popular seller and I liked that this store not only carries the basics (Straight, A-pocket, Dojo, etc) but carries limited edition styles and collections that I have yet to find at Barney’s.

Enjoy kiddies.

Boston is the new Europe

….Well, not really, but two things happened today which made me jump for joy and filled me with so much glee I squeaked like a little girl.  Boston is becoming a little more like Paris by allowing citizens to register their Charlie Cards online and unveiling a bike sharing program scheduled for next spring.  YAY!

Paris, much like Boston, is rich with history, tiny streets [SUV’s just don’t fit there], and is notorious for crazy drivers.  Unlike Boston, Paris has 6.5 million more residents in the metropolitan area.  Yet, they’ve been able to make it work. Since it’s debut in July 2007, the Paris program, Vélib—a contraction of vélo for bicycle, and liberté for freedom—is the city’s answer to both increasing congestion and the climate crisis.  Within it’s first year there were over 26 million riders and the program can average around 200,000 rides a day.  Because of the Vélib’s popularity the government was forced to double its initial fleet of 10,000 bicycles.  I don’t know about you, but those numbers are astonishing in my eyes.

Anyone with a bank or credit card can rent a Vélib at one of the many docking stations Paris has to offer.  A Vélib can be rented for a euro a day or five euros for a week, as well as a yearly subscription rate of 29 euros, approximately eight cents a day.  Whatever plan you choose, the first 30 minutes of each ride are free.  And with over 20,600 bicycles in service and over 1,450 docking stations merely 300 meters from one another, the entire city is available right at your foot pedals.  The program is so popular that there are now blogs dedicated entirely to the fashion of Vélib riders, ranging from women to heels and skirts to men in suits with briefcases in the front basket.

From the Boston Globe article published today, it seems that the MBTA is taking a note from the Paris system.  The Hub plans to install up to 3,000 docking stations located about 300-400 yards apart, focusing heavily on main squares and popular tourist attractions around the city.  A potential rate offered by BikeNow, one of three companies in competition to run the program, would charge $2.50 for a day pass and $40 for a yearly subscription.  Similar to the Vélibs, renters would be allowed unlimited rides under 30 minutes, after which an additional rate would be added on.

Even Jessica Alba is a fan of the Vélib

Granted, I understand that there’s a lot of risk involved by launching 3,000 inexperienced bikers into Boston traffic. That was the same risk in Paris as well and although the risk is high, there are many more perks. Maybe this is the way to get Boston drivers (aka Massholes) to finally blinker and stop driving like lunatics. It allows people to be fair weather bike owners. If it’s sunny, take a bike to work today. If it happens to rain towards the end of the evening, you have the freedom to opt for another mode of transportation. The Boston sharing program would be a great way to restore faith [if possible at this point] in the MBTA system. City dwellers would now have the opportunity to take public transportation in their own hands and not rely on the T or the bus, both notorious for being late (if functioning at all).

Maybe this is also what universities in Boston need in particular.  Rent will always stay high in certain areas, and this might just be the perfect opportunity for students to be able to live in other parts of Boston–like the South End, Somerville, or even East Boston–with students from different universities living in mingling in areas outside of their respective “traditional” city campus.  Maybe this is the way to pop that fabled “College Bubble”.  I know you and your friends have thought at a least one time that Cambridge is a great idea, but how the heck are we going to get there and back.  And when 2 am rolls around and you and your friends are getting kicked out of Rumor, Daisy’s or whatever your watering hole may be, it will be reassuring to know that you don’t have to rely on Boston cabbies or your tired soles to take you back home.  Like Paris though, don’t ride one of these bikes drunk. My friend spent a night in jail for being pulled over for drunk vélibing.  Granted, his experience made for plenty of teasing over wine afterwards.

For me, I’m excited. I will continue to be excited till these bad boys roll out tentatively next spring.  And when they do know that I will be out there braving Boston drivers, coming back from Formaggio in Cambridge at dinner time to my Symphony apartment, with my bike basket full of cheese, baguettes, and my Longchamp purse, imaging just for a moment that the Charles is the Seine.  And as I peddle down the Harvard bridge in my high heels with the wind catching my skirt, it’ll be nice to know that my dream has finally become a reality.

Now…a quick movie [courtesy of StreetFilms] about the Vélib in case you’re craving more…

Hot Hot Humidity

After a wonderful break to a remote location in Massachusetts this past weekend [no I won’t tell you where I was as that might compromise my anonymity], my return to Boston was bittersweet.  This is because I forgot how HUMID this city can really be.  I know, I know, I’ve lived in Boston since 2005, yadda yadda yadda, however, I always forgot how bi-polar Mother Nature really can be when it comes to the Hub.

The worst part of it all [I’m guilty as charged in this one] is what this heat and humidity is doing to Boston fashion.  Just when this city was starting to become dry again [après monsoon season], and the sun started to peek out behind the clouds, I would walk down Newbury and actually be impressed with some fellow Bostonista outfits.  That all changed when the weather peeked past 86 degrees.  Yum, right?

Summer always presents a huge challenge for me as it seems my body temperature is always 10 degrees warmer than everyone around me.  As much as I want to throw on some Nike tempo track shorts and a beater, it’s important to continue and remember [no matter how superficial it seems] that humans are primarily visual.  Random passerby’s and potential dopple gangers will give a stare down or the stink eye if they aren’t impressed.

So just a couple words to the wise: to beat the heat in style always consider the following when getting dressed in the AM:

* Cotton breathes a lot easier than other materials.  As cute as my BCBG print dress is, that synthetic material is not going to feel good against my body within the first 5 minutes as I walk down Mass Ave. Lightweight brands that I swear by include C&C California, Splendid, and James Perse.  Linen is also a tried and true alternative.

*Stick with neutral colors, aka black and white.  Heaven forbid your “glow” is on the brink of  becoming “sweat”, these hues will make it less obvious to those around you.

*Keep it minimalist.  This goes across the board from fabrics to layers.  Less is better.  If you feel the need to step up, a safe way to up the glam factor is through accessories.  Pile on the necklaces or bracelets [never both!].  Summer is also a great excuse to pull that mane back and also show off the new headband or feather clip you just acquired. Plus, in this economy, accessories are a great way to frugally spend money, while also updating your wardrobe.