Monthly Archives: October 2011

you’ve got to have friends

5 Replies

Like so many Americans, she was trying to construct a life that made sense from things she found in gift shops. - Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse Five

I began blogging because I was repeatedly amazed by the connectivity of it all. What I began calling the Shrinky Dink Effect - the triumphs, the tragedies and the mundane that brought people together. It made the world seem that much smaller. I began to see the way friendships started with a tweet or a comment on a blog post. Photographing BlogHer, I watched as online friends gather offline with the annual excitement of kids off to sleep away camp.

It’s why I love social media. This cyber village is vital and inspiring, and I put it on the list of things that I adore about this tangled web. I have friends who blog and those I’ve made through the blogosphere. And I am equally bad at leaving comments for them all. No one should take it personally. I am an equal opportunity lousy no-commenter.

I hope I can make up for that in some way when I talk about the things friends are doing online that I find inspiring. Like when Morgan was spearheading the fight against SMA or Eden decided to lead a guerilla art campaign or Paul and Cariann launched cargoh.com. Or my friend Jules’ 31 Days of William Morris project, which she just finished. Today.

I met Jules a few years ago, and then I finally met Jules, as is the way in which bloggy friendships often evolve. Although many online friendships remain in the cloud, Jules and I have the good fortune of living just a few freeways apart, and it was during the most ridiculous heatwave in late August we gathered with a group of friends to celebrate Holly’s Los Angeles book launch. Evenings like that remind me why artists need a community. Why writers and painters and photographers and designers get so much from interaction, when so often daily work is done solo. (I don’t care whether or not Al Gore invented the internet, whoever it was, on behalf of freelancers and indie artists everywhere, I thank you.)

Jules posted every single day for the month of October, taking to heart William Morris’ words: “Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful.” Anyone blogging for thirty-one days in a row deserves some sort of medal, and I found this project inspiring. I consider The Container Store one of the happiest places on earth, but it wasn’t just the organizational aspects of this blog series that were so great. It was the story she wove throughout. The idea of how we live, what we live with and how it defines us.

While my style inspiration is certainly more Diana Vreeland than Mr. Morris, I loved the whole journey. I may be a bit of a maximalist but, like Jules (and Vreeland and Morris), I believe in cultivating your style – be it fashion, design or the wisdom of Strunk and White.*

So, go read and enjoy and learn from Jules. And tell me, what and where do you find inspiration in this blogosphere? I’d love to find out what great treasures I’m missing! xo a.

*I think this is an apt moment to say that I believe in the oxford comma, but it has its place. Sadly, the internet isn’t it. Neither are magazines. Which is why I don’t recommend editing a book and a magazine at the same time. You’ll thank me when you’re proofreading.

five great things someone else said, vol 28*

5 Replies

I’m an inspiration board kind of girl. The thought of covering an entire wall in cork has crossed my mind more than once. Pinterest tidily holds all that inspires me in the ether, where it doesn’t take up wall space. Yet Pinterest concerns me. Because there are way too many thinspiration boards. I hate knowing that someone will google thinspiration and probably end up on this blog, sorely disappointed to find I don’t believe that keeping mood boards pinned with images that motivate you to skip meals is inspiring. Or the only Jonathan Adler designs I don’t love – a needlepoint pillow emblazoned with the words “Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.” That ends up on a lot of those boards, too. (Why, JA? Why?)

For about seven years, as my unknown food allergies grew worse and I grew sick, I gained a lot of weight. Combined with the freshman fifteen, at one time I was a good fifty pounds heavier than I am today. Yet I didn’t look at photos of myself and feel unattractive. It didn’t make me insecure about dating or feel less as a woman. It just meant I bought new clothes.

Why now, a few days ago, looking a headshot to accompany an article I wrote, was I so hypercritical of how my arms looked? Why did I feel so confident then and not now?

In Los Angeles, where dieting is a way of life, I never had parents who made weight an issue. Only now do I realize how making it a non-issue was a huge issue. I was pretty average in height and weight as a little girl. Basically, the only one who ever commented on my weight was me. So, when I began having more health issues and gaining weight, at about twenty, I didn’t have the added pressure of being reminded of what I already knew. For which I am grateful. Because I couldn’t lose the weight however I tried. I’d never been much of an exerciser, but even working with a trainer made no difference. I now understand why, but at the time it was overwhelming. I sort of resigned myself to the fact that this was who I was for the time being. Hopefully, one day it would change.

I’d like to say I got into shape because I worked my ass off. The reality is that most of the change came from cutting out the foods I am allergic to. As a result, my body stopped fighting a war with every bit of gluten, soy, egg or dairy that invaded it. It also meant I removed all things processed, too. (Soy and gluten abound in boxed everything.)

About four years ago, as my weight dropped, people began to say things, flattering things, but they could be depressing to hear. We send really screwed up messages about weight and beauty and health. I remember someone coming up to me and remarking how fun it must be to be thin again because of all the fun things I could wear. And while I know I’m not exactly good with compliments, instead of saying thank you, I said I was just grateful to not live in pain everyday. Living without chronic pain? That made life more fun. Losing the weight was great, but I loved shopping whether a size 4 or 8 or 14. Truth be told, there are some clothes I really miss that I have kept in the back of my closet. Because when I was a size 14, I had fun things to wear, too.

My thoughts return to these thinspiration pins. I’ve wanted to leave comments, but how do you tell someone what they’re allowed to be inspired by? Sadly, we look at the size of someone’s waist as opposed to their BMI to determine their health worth. I know people who don’t gain weight no matter what they eat, but they aren’t healthy. Skinny-fat exists, but we don’t acknowledge it. Instead we embroider bon mots onto pillows that kids will read and take seriously. And they will pin these onto boards to remind themselves not to eat. That’s not inspiration, that’s starvation.

And now, five great things someone else said that are worth pinning:

It is amazing how complete is the delusion that beauty is goodness. - Leo Tolstoy, The Kreutzer Sonata

Beauty is not caused. It is. - Emily Dickinson

Have no fear of perfection - you’ll never reach it. - Salvador Dalí

Nothing,’ wrote Tolstoy, ‘can make our life, or the lives of other people, more beautiful than perpetual kindness. - Gretchen Rubin, The Happiness Project

Too late, I found you can’t wait to become perfect, you got to go out and fall down and get up with everybody else. - Ray Bradbury, Something Wicked This Way Comes

*I know, it’s going backwards, but I realized I skipped a week.