it's what you want to know
/ By Caroline O'Halloran / /
Hot dawg! (Or Haute Dog, perhaps?)
My husband and I chowed down at the new White Dog Café in Haverford Square Saturday night – a top-to-tail overhaul of the former Du Jour Market.
Humanely raised, sustainable and sourced within 50 miles, the grub was doggone good.
But what truly had us panting was the inspired doggie décor.
Call it Marty’s Adventures in WoofWoofland (“Marty” being owner Marty Grims). White Dog Haverford is a whimsical world where kitchen colanders become chandeliers
/ By Caroline O'Halloran / /
Celebrity judge Carson Kressley and Devon Horse Show and Country Fair Chairman Wayne Grafton chat up the “Most Fascinating” winner.
Just when you thought the Ladies Day Hat Contest at Devon couldn’t get any more eye-popping, it does.
More than 100 lovelies – a new record – pranced before the judges at Devon this morning.
Some were seriously vying for the prizes. (A lease on a Jaguar! An $5,000 gold necklace!)
Others were there to ogle (Carson Kressley! Carson Kressley’s boyfriend! Fox 29’s Jennaphr Frederick!).
Or be ogled. (Philadelphia Style took my picture! The Inquirer took mine!)
I’ve judged the Devon hat-off a handful of times over the years. This time I didn’t judge but brought the SAVVY cam to scope out the head turners:
Art teacher Pamela Targan painted a watercolor of Devon scenes inside the brim of her hat and on her handbag to win “Best Hat and Purse.”
Susan Ospina found this Vegas showgirl’s castoff on Etsy.
“When life hands you lemons, you make a hat,” Carson quipped, as he named Patti Lynn Fitzgerald “Best Hat to Toe” for her fresh-squeezed frock and lemon-stick hat. Pal Carolyn Krichman wears a USA-made vintage wool hat (under the feathers).
Unionville milliner Janet Sidewater wears one of her own sinemay and abaca fascinators; she also conjured the sinemay and pheasant fowl topper worn by shoemaker Michele Harris (who’s soon to launch Bespoke Bridal Shoes).
Grandmom Gordana Loncar wrapped an equestrian-themed Hermes scarf around a hat form fashioned by her daughter, Milica Schiavio.
Multi-year winner, Amy Holzapfel, was awarded “Most Fascinating” for her homemade Birds of Paradise fascinator, paired perfectly with an Ivanka Trump dress. Birds of Paradise are near and dear to Amy – a reminder of Hawaiian travels and her father’s signature gift.
Sandy Boyd stitched up this supercalifragilisticexpialidocious Edwardian fantasy worn by sidekick Christina Wilson.
Former hat champs Robin Sweet and Tiffany Arey turned out in their signature styles: whimsical horsey for Robin and drop-dead elegant for Tiffany. Both make their own hats each year. Tiffany plans to make it a business. The explosion of white feathers is Tiffany’s take on a champagne bottle uncorking in celebration of Devon’s tradition of excellence.
Get a load of these ALL HUMAN HAIR toppers – worn by Megan DiLoia (second from left) and Jenny Larkin (right) and created by Heather Hayman of Studio H in Paoli (left). The dresses and color scheme are courtesy of Polka Dots Boutique owner Susan Randels (second from right).
A closer look at the Megan’s hairy head.
Floral designer Ilonka Comstock’s fascinator was freshly picked from her St. Davids’ garden and makeup artist Beke Beau called her shark-in-kelp-forest cloche “what 10 minutes at Michael’s will achieve.”
Last year they were a hit as The Four Seasons; this year, they’re the Four Gems: Tina Aberant (Ruby), Sharon Bozentka (Diamond), Joanne Bogan (Emerald) and Annette Brennan (Sapphire).
Historical re-enactor, French teacher and first-time contestant, Pam Bastings adapted a 1880s/90s era gown, carried Devon history books and dolled up her hat with horsey chachkies to take the grand prize, “Best in Show.”
Two of my favorite judges, upper crusty NYC milliner Brenda Waites Bolling, and Chloe Johnston, Parisian shopping tours and style connoisseur.
No lid but some stylish stubble on the head of Carson Kressley’s longtime boyfriend John Guerrera, a RE/MAX realtor in Exton who was hanging with real estate investor Nancy Wood. Guerrera told me his friendship with Carson goes back 30 years – since their days working at Ralph Lauren together.
/ By Caroline O'Halloran / /
Despite a horse death in the ring and a brouhaha over box seats, the show goes on at Devon. The Main Line’s signature event reports record crowds. (Sunny days will do that.) A bevy of new shops is also keeping things hopping – 10 of the Country Fair’s 40 vendors are new this year – usually it’s just 4 or 5. Stellar newcomers include:
Eastcote Lane is doing boffo box office with its re-imagined “upcycled” vintage furniture. Teresa Decker’s new booth is so busy she’s running back and forth to her Devon workshop/store to paint/retrieve items for her stall.
Eastcote Lane uses chalk paint and some carpentry know-how to revive old furniture.
Artisan finds at Eastcote Lane: Wynnewood industrial artist Paul Nelson’s bourbon-barrel-strap lanterns, Media potter Mark Tyson’s tea bowls and pendants by Jeanne Joseph, also from Wynnewood.
The most original new stall is 4MULA, fresh from the Rittenhouse Square Farmer’s Market. Not only does 4MULA grow rare organic succulents and sedums in Philly and Narberth, it makes cool hypertufa pots to put them in. Also for sale are 4MULA living walls, living tree ornaments, living moons (suspended terrariums) and its patented BarBox line of soaps. In a nifty twist, Devon shoppers can design their own succulent planters.
Making me nostalgic for my cycling trip through Provence is La Cigale (bonus points if you know cigale means cicada), selling sunny French Provencal Linens. Ideal for outdoor dining (and sloppy eaters like me) are La Cigale’s acrylic-coated cloth tablecloths.
Spill-, fade- and stain-resistant table toppers in cheerful prints from Provence are Nancy Mitchell’s calling card at La Cigale.
Most la-di-da newbie award goes to Katherine Hooker, a British designer whose duds are sported by swells at Royal Ascot. (Royal Ascot is like Devon – but in England and with royalty).
Christina Cain in the line’s hacking jacket; Vogue rated it “a #1 national treasure.”
A-listers like Kate, Pippa, Sienna and Taylor are all Katherine Hooker fans. An FYI: Katherine Hooker’s name is not on her stall. The line shares space with returnee Liza Hennessy, creator of bags and belts made from tack-quality components and full-grain bridal leathers. The KH sale rack on the stall’s front porch has some smashing buys!
Back after a year off, Boutique Street is stopping traffic with its monster-size monograms and fashion jewelry.
The monogram-crazy Main Line is flipping for these cut-outs at Boutique Street .
Of course, the best-selling booth – and it isn’t even close – is Devon Souvenirs. Run by the Devon Country Fair itself, the Devon blue cottage’s tees, hats and Devon logo sundries – and its kiddie shop next door – gross as much as all the other pop-ups combined, says Gail McCarthy, Devon Country Fair co-chair.
“It’s nice to rotate in some new shops to keep it fresh, ” says McCarthy. “I’m hearing a really good vibe this year.”
She explained that national names like Anthropologie, J. McLaughlin and Lululemon (another 2015 newbie) pay a flat fee for their stalls while mom and pops pay a smaller upfront free (varies with stall size and location) and give 10 percent of sales to Bryn Mawr Hospital, the horse show’s annual beneficiary. About 40 percent of the Devon Country Fair’s donation to the hospital comes from the shops, she says.
They may be running ragged stocking their stalls but shopkeepers generally seem to relish their days at Devon. They enjoy getting reacquainted with their vendor neighbors and customers from around the country, says Susan Randels, owner of one Devon’s top-selling pop-ups, Polka Dots.
If the 40 vendors near the midway aren’t enough – and you’re hard-core horsey – wander behind the far grandstand for shops run by the horse show itself, a separate but aligned entity.
BTW ladies, Wednesday is Ladies Day so dust off your most tempting topper and get shopping!
/ By Caroline O'Halloran / /
The new MOD Pizza replaces the old party store in Wayne’s Gateway Shopping Center.
My husband and I tried to bring beer into the new MOD Pizza in Gateway Shopping Center the other night.
No go.
We were told they were hoping to get a wine and beer license but in the meantime, BYOB is verboten.
MOD is one of a 50-store chain with 16 more on the way, including one slated to open at the old Melt Down in Wayne in June.
What Starbucks did to coffee and Chipotle to Mexican, MOD is doing to pizza. Unlike your standard pizza joint, this is a build-your-own-pie-for-one-price place – MOD being an acronym for Made On Demand.
So, for a reasonable 8 bucks, you can customize your 11-inch pie with as many of the 27 meats, cheeses, sauces and veggies as you like.
Basically, you watch a MOD Squader assemble your creation, grab a self-serve drink, find a table (or better yet, a booth) and wait maybe 5 minutes for your pie to bake in the 800-degree oven.
The beverages weren’t exactly what my husband and I had in mind [sigh] but the pizza was good. The crust was thin and chewy (if a tad salty) with those tasty burn bubbles around the rim.
For carb counters, there are a few salads. And for the gluten intolerant (but not for full-blown Celiac sufferers), there’s a gluten-free crust option that they can’t guarantee hasn’t come in contact with the wheat in their standard crust.
Industrial chic, edgy and a loud, the MOD in Gateway is the chain’s second in PA. Cashing in on the fast-casual custom-food craze, MOD was started by the couple who founded the Seattle Coffee Co. More than 100 locations are expected by 2016.
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Gingy’s owner Jean Tremblay wears a “Marissa” and Ailey Kemmerer models a “Devon” at the line’s launch party.
Just in time for Memorial Day Weekend, Gingy’s has launched its own line of easy-breezy summer dresses.
Jean G. Designs debuted with a tented juice bar/live music soirée during Thursday night’s Malvern Stroll.
Enterprising boutique owner Jean G. Tremblay designed and manufactured (in the USA!) four dress styles and, in a nice twist, has pledged to donate 10 percent of every sale to a favorite charity.
The epitome of preppy/comfy chic, the no-iron frocks come in 10 splashy prints.
Styles ($158-$178) include: “Marissa” to benefit Breastcancer.org; “Sparrow” a racer-back shift, benefiting Home of the Sparrow; the strapless “Devon” to benefit the Devon Horse Show, and “Hope,” a sleeved tunic dress, to benefit Peter’s Place. One top, “Bayside,” will benefit The Wetlands Institute in Stone Harbor.
Get ’em at Gingy’s booth at the Devon Horse Show, online at Gingys.com, and at Gingy’s on King Street in Malvern and Third Ave. in Stone Harbor.
/ By Caroline O'Halloran / /
I hold my x-rated photo album while dermatologist Adrienne Rencic checks for changes.
As some of you know, I’ve done a little fashion modeling over the years but a while back I posed for a very different kind of photo spread. I wasn’t showcasing the clothes on my back because, well, there weren’t any clothes on my back.
Here’s how it happened.
My brother and my father are both malignant melanoma survivors so I had long been a faithful, if not enthusiastic, patient of a dermatologist I used to call The Sun Nazi. Every year, the Sun Nazi would inspect the assorted moles, freckles and “beauty marks” peppering my epidermis, tsk tsk over my very faint tan lines, and implore me to get “Total Body Photography.”
About seven years ago – tired of excisions and biopsies – I took her advice and called the Dermatrak Skin Imaging Center (then in King of Prussia, now in Plymouth Meeting).
I’ll never forget my appointment.
After handing over a $500 check for the privilege, I shed all of my clothes (undies included) and jewelry and slipped on a white terry robe.
I was then told to stand in the center of a large blindingly bright studio where a man in a white coat (a photographer trying to look like a doc?) approached and asked me to hand him my robe.
He directed me through 30 minutes of unseemly poses while he clicked away. His job was to capture every square inch of me – scalp, soles and lady parts included – in full-color digital 2D. As I bent and twisted and lifted, I remember wondering if he enjoyed his work.
My photo album came in the mail a few weeks later wrapped in brown paper and conspicuously marked “Personal” and “Private.” Oh dear, what does the mailman think I ordered?
I promptly hid the package – unopened – under my bed.
I still can’t bring myself to look at the pictures, but my new dermatologist seems to appreciate them. I tote my album along to my annual skin checks and she systematically compares every mole constellation against its celluloid counterpart, looking for changes in shape, size, color and spacing. (I’ve had nightmares about leaving the album in the waiting room or in my car. Mommy, what’s this?)
And I’m pleased to report that I’ve had only one suspicious removed since my X-rated escapade. Which means no new stitches, no fresh centipede scars.
So while the experience was debasing in every way (especially for a good Catholic girl like me), I recommend it.
Plus, when you’re middle aged, the photos are good for at least 10 years. Like well-spaced pregnancies, there’s ample time between photo shoots to forget the torture.
/ By Caroline O'Halloran / /
For many, my spring vacation choice was a real head scratcher. Israel? Really? Is it safe?
My husband and I hadn’t planned to visit the Middle East this year. We’d been sitting on a big, use-it-or-lose-it US Airways credit from a cancelled trip to Italy last fall. We basically played spin-the-globe and landed on Israel, a place we’d always wanted to visit. We found a top-rated tour company on Trip Advisor, checked the late-April weather (sunny and 70!), and off we went.
We’re back now – safe, sound and psyched to beat the drum for the Holy Land, a magical place that fed my head, my soul and my belly.
If Israel’s not already on your must-see list, here are 12 reasons you should add it – pronto!
It’s safe. No, really, it is. You have to go through security TWICE to board a plane for Tel Aviv/Jerusalem. My TSA pre-check status meant nothing to the tough-guy screeners at the gate – I had to shed my shoes and jacket along with everyone else. Once you’re in country, young IDF (Israeli Defense Force) soldiers are posted everywhere. It doesn’t take long to get used to – and feel reassured by – all those machine guns.
Jet lag, schmet lag. The flights – roughly 11 hours direct from Philly to Ben Gurion Airport and some 12 hours coming back – are long enough to allow for some real shut-eye, not the catnaps you get on a flight to Europe. (You might, however, disembark with a disconcerting case of cankles if you stay put too long – I could barely get my feet back in my sneakers.)
It’s manageable. Israel is about the size of New Jersey so you can see the whole shebang in a week. Add a day of travel on either end and it’s an exotic, 9- or 10-day destination.
A Main Line shiksa slips her prayer note in the Western Wall.
The history. The place is one big archeological dig. You think ancient Rome is old? Wait ’til you see the 5,000-year old ruins at Megiddo! AKA Armigeddon, Megiddo was the world’s first city, and according to the Bible, it will also be its last. Other mind-blowing golden oldies? Herod the Great’s desert fortress Masada, his impressive city, Caesarea, and the Dead Sea scrolls found at Qumran, just for starters.
The religion. Israel’s the birthplace of the Big Three monotheistic faiths: Judaism, Christianity and Islam. We chose a “highlights of Israel” tour because we wanted to see all the holy sites – Jewish, Christian and otherwise. We were transfixed by the meticulously manicured B’Hai Gardens, the otherworldly beauty of the Sea of Galilee (Jesus’ stomping ground), the ancient Byzantine Beit Alfa Synagogue, the ultra-Orthodox Mea Shearim neighborhood in Jerusalem and the polyglot of iconic churches, mosques and temples in Jerusalem’s Old City. As Catholics, we were especially moved by the Church of the Annunciation in Nazareth, the site of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount overlooking the super serene Sea of Galilee, the Garden of Gethsemane, and the sites of Jesus’ crucifixion, burial and resurrection all within the four walls of the mordantly mystical Church of the Holy Sepulcher.
The food.
My husband, Rich, is ready to dig into the 18 salads and monster pita served to anyone lucky enough to snag a seat at the Old Man and the Sea in Jaffa Port.
The breads, from BIG bagels to challah and laffa, are fresh baked and often served warm, and the Mediterranean cuisine, particularly in cosmopolitan Tel Aviv, is exceptional. Other standouts: the hot Frisbee-sized pitas and fresh salads slung by the servers at Jaffa’s Old Man and the Sea; the Best Tomato Salad Ever (my name but I’m not kidding) at Herbert Samuel and the inventive open-kitchen creations at North Abraxas (sit at the bar!), both in Tel Aviv; the super-fresh catch at Jerusalem’s Sea Dolphin; the bounteous buffet breakfast at the world-renowned King David Hotel; the luscious lamb shawarma in the shadow of the Western Wall…
The super-charged geo-politics. The journo in me was stoked to see firsthand: the strategic value of the Golan Heights (we watched a rocket explode just over the border in Syria); a Jordanian flag flapping just a few feet across the muddy Jordan River; throngs of jubilant Israelis dancing in the streets on Independence Day; the heavily guarded checkpoint and No Man’s Land between Israel and Palestinian-controlled Bethlehem; and the controversial Israeli settlements in the West Bank. I came away with a much better grasp of the Israeli-Arab conflict. I’ll be paying closer attention to Middle Eastern politics from now on, that’s for sure.
The tour guides. Ours, Eli Dabby (Shalom Israel Tours) was one in a million – funny, warm, wise, peace loving and eager to please. Others we met who were touring with Rent-A-Guide raved about the humor and storytelling of their guide, Jackie. In Israel, guiding is a valued profession. Guides have to attend special classes for two years and take an exam to become licensed by the Ministry of Tourism.
Yad Vashem. After the Western Wall, it’s the most visited tourist site in Israel – and for good reason. I half cried my way through the Holocaust History Museum, the Hall of Remembrance and the Garden of the Righteous Among the Nations at this 44-acre complex outside Jerusalem. The U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum in D.C. is wonderful, but wandering through this place, in their country, is moving beyond words.
The people. Israelis, both secular and faithful, were warm and wonderful. From server to soldier, everyone had an interesting story, it seemed.
Loved chatting up Hall of Fame golfer Amy Alcott in the King David Hotel’s lobby.
The scenery. Dramatic desert vistas, the dead calm of the earth’s lowest point, the Dead Sea, Bedouin herding sheep on craggy cliffs like shepherds from the Bible, the tranquil Sea of Galilee, the enchanting Old City with its towering stone walls, colorful street bazaars – Israel is a photographer’s dream.
The fruits of the land. Plump and sweet Medjool dates from Jericho, Jaffa’s renowned oranges, surprisingly tasty wine from the Golan grapes, and all-natural beauty products made from Dead Sea Minerals and Galilean olives – (more on these in a future post), Israel is bountiful beyond belief for a country that’s more than half dessert.
The resident rabbi at the Golan Heights Winery leads a fascinating tour not far from the Syrian border (where we saw smoke from a rocket).
BTW, I’d highly recommend our tour company, Shalom Israel Tours, headed by one Shalom Stark. (I kid you not!) His service and gratitude were tremendous.
(An FYI: Jewish Heritage tours tend to fill big buses but our Highlights of Israel tour had only 14 people aboard a large van. Perfect size! An added bonus: traveling with interesting English speakers from around the world!)
/ By Caroline O'Halloran / /
Yours truly from the spring 2015 shoot. Photo by Brenda Carpenter.
If you’ve shopped at Polka Dots or get Chester County Life Magazine in the mail (congrats—that means you’re in a “desirable” income bracket!), you’ve probably seen my mug.
For the last several years, I’ve been modeling in the Paoli boutique’s spring and fall photo shoots – the results of which are splayed across posters, social media, newspaper ads and the glossy pages of Chester County Life. We just wrapped our seventh shoot two days ago; I was the oldest model in Monday’s shoot by three years.
So why do I do it? Good question. It’s certainly not for the money – although we do get a modest gift certificate.
Being a newly introspective sort, I’m trying to figure out why I keep saying yes.
Yes to giving up a full day.
Yes to freezing in summer dresses in March and roasting in fall clothes in September.
Yes to exposing myself to unknown/uncontrollable results. (I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been tagged on Facebook or opened the magazine and cringed or felt just a wee bit ridiculous.)
I’ve thunk on it and here are 6 reasons I say “yes” to playing supermodel twice a year:
For starters, the shoots bring me back to the adrenaline-rush, creative fashion shoots I produced for Main Line Media News. I would rustle up volunteer models, cool clothes and nifty locations (Life’s Patina at Willowbrook Farm, Wayne Hotel, Appleford, Valley Forge Park, etc.), and if I got really, really lucky, Berwyn’s own Brenda Carpenter would take the photos. These days, when I model for Polka Dots, I’m part of the show but don’t have to run it. The only things my little brain is busy thinking about are ornery bra straps and wayward hats.
I like getting fawned over. It’s ridiculously indulgent having someone else paint your face (harlot-like because the camera drains it all out), doll up your hair (hats off to Heather and Studio H), zip you up (kudos, Karen), and fuss over whether to go with the pearl studs or the resin dangles (thank you, Lori).
I get to play the hooky I never played in school. No researching, no interviewing, no writing, no exercising. The shoots are relaxing and energizing at the same time. All I have to do is show up wearing presentable underwear and say cheese.
Lounging around in Jude Connally duds with my sister models, Lone Spillard and Megan Keating.
Going a bit deeper here, turns out I like hanging with other women. For a stretch (before I married Rich), my best friends were almost all guys. But more and more, I appreciate the comradery of women. During the shoots, we get to know each other rather intimately. At the start of Monday’s shoot, we changed in bathrooms. By mid-afternoon, we stripped down any ole place. By day’s end, we were fast friends. I exaggerate, but you get the idea.
Unlike the real world, everyone is super nice to us and makes us feel special – from Polka Dots owner Susan Randels and her stellar team (Karen Denney, Lori Horning and Sheila O’Connor), to photographer Brenda Carpenter, Boutique Buzzz’s Courtney Davis to Heather and the crew at Studio H. Even the homeowner and realtor at the spectacular Southern Living-like mansion site on Waterloo Road in Devon couldn’t have been more gracious. We all cheer each other on and feel like we’re part of something glamorous, if only for a day.
And last, but, I fear, not least, it’s a huge ego boost. On a recent Friday night at the bar at Nectar (a scene that’s a blog post in itself), two strangers told me they recognized me “from the magazine.” Ha. Never thought I’d hear THAT in my mid-50s! My husband was secretly pleased, too, I think.
So that, dear reader, is why I do it. It fills a few needs – superficial and otherwise. More than anything, it’s a hoot.
And if you’ve read SAVVY’s “About Me” page, you know that having fun is something I take very, very seriously.
/ By Caroline O'Halloran / /
64 doesn’t sound old to me.” So declared veteran TV journalist Jane Pauley in West Chester Friday night to plug the paperback version of her book, Your Life Calling: Reimagining the Rest of Your Life.
“Dateline” Jane is now 64. But you’d never know it – at least from my rear-mezzanine vantage point for the finale of West Chester University President’s Speaker series. She has the same silky-smart-but-warm voice, the same placid smile and the same sun-kissed hair – sans the girlish pony tail she sported nearly 40 years ago when she first replaced Barbara Walters opposite Tom Brokaw on the “Today” show.
Can you imagine a 25-year-old anchoring “Today” today? No how, no way.
Jane wore a sleek solid-gray dress and leg-lengthening pointy-toed nude stilettos. (Tres modern classic chic, a la TV first lady Claire Underwood.)
Her appearance is not my primary purpose here, however. (Funny – and a bit worrisome – how we gals can’t help but size up other women’s looks.)
Instead, I’d like to share some of Jane’s provocative (and occasionally funny!) pronouncements. Among them:
On aging:
I have the memory of an Etch-A-Sketch.
We are recalibrating the meaning of getting older; middle age is stretching out to decades. Death is the new old age.
60 is a lot more active than 50 was 10 years ago.
On hitting the big city and its bright lights as Today’s anchor at age 25:
My deficiency was youth; but I got over it.
Perhaps the luckiest day of my life: the day I didn’t make the 10th grade cheerleading squad and joined the speech/debate team instead, paving the way for a career in broadcast news.
On finally giving herself some credit for her early career successes:
I used to think it was all luck. But now I know it took courage.
On her most surprising interview subject.
Joan Rivers was much deeper thinker than any of you would have given her credit for.
On redefining ourselves in midlife:
Necessity is the mother of re-invention.
Sometimes we need to be re-introduced to ourselves.
Say yes more than you say no. The hardest part is going from “maybe” to “yes.”
“Doing” is more important than “thinking.”
Inspiration is everything: you just have to be looking.
/ By Caroline O'Halloran / /
Snow days simply aren’t what they used to be.
No snow-crusted mittens tumbling in the dryer, no guilt-inducing make-a-craft-with-me-mommy pleas, no obnoxious bells heralding a next-level video game victory, no one calling the house to plan a sledding rendez-vous.
Nope, snow days, empty-nester style, are profoundly quiet and still. And I love ’em.
Today is one of those blissful days and guess what I did first thing? (OK, second thing; caffeine and big-girl breakfast ALWAYS come first.) I showed my makeup brushes a little love.
Turns out if you neglect your brushes – and boy, have I ignored mine! – they’ll take it personally. First, they’ll visit upon you every manner of disfigurement – acne, pink eye, scabies. (Kiddin’ about that last one, but you get the idea). Then, over time, they’ll get all uppity and stop working for you altogether – they’ll lose their shape and texture and, in cases of extreme abandonment, start losing their hair. Nasty stuff. Thankfully, no scabies to report here, but chronic bloodshot eyes and the recent purchase of a long-lasting eyeliner in a pot (Bobbi Brown’s – love it!) got me thinking about freshening up my liner brush, and this morning, well, one brush led to another …
Sucker that I am, I fell for a $15 bottle of MAC brush cleaner when everyone knows (everyone but me, apparently) that your grubby bristles will perk up just as readily with dishwashing liquid, bar soap, shampoo or even olive oil.
I won’t bore you with a video showing how I cleaned mine. Just don’t wet the brush barrel (lest your bristles loosen) and be sure to rinse thoroughly with lukewarm water. Feel free to lather (gently), rinse and repeat on extra-grimy foundation or concealer brushes. Then lay flat to dry.
The Bobbie Brown Makeup Manual recommends washing once a week but I think once a month may be a tad more realistic. My little burst of early-morning productivity (others might call it work procrastination but they would be SO wrong) wasn’t planned. Nor was it in character: compulsively tidy I am not!
Still, I have to say, I’m feeling pretty pleased. Today’s whiteout wasn’t a complete washout after all. Scratch that – it WAS a complete washout, but only for my grateful little brushes.
/ By Caroline O'Halloran / /
Thanks for checking out SAVVY/Main Line, a blog about navigating through midlife with fun, flair and a fresh perspective. My goal is to help you become your absolutely best, most savvy self – inside and out – schooled to handle any curves these pesky in-between years may throw at you.
So sure, SAVVY will address some of the icky stuff – the slack skin, the weird hair eruptions, the hormonal havoc, the brain fog, the self-sabotage. I’m on this journey with ya, sista!
But we’ll also talk about the joys and opportunities of our second adulthood. With our kids mostly fending for themselves, we’re freer now than we’ve been in years –which is a little terrifying and a lot cool at the same time. The empty nest? It’s like being 20 with money, right?
SAVVY will focus on the things – big and small – that matter in your life. Right here. Right now. I plan to bare my soul a bit and to introduce you to my girl crushes – the women I’ve met – as a journalist, a mom, a community volunteer – who inspire and fascinate me. I’ll also sniff out all the stuff that promises to beautify, strengthen, fortify and rejuvenate us, to road test what I can, and to report back with the straight scoop. I do the legwork; you reap the rewards.
SAVVY will answer questions like:
Is that new workout worth your time?
What’s that new restaurant like?
How can I punch up my tired wardrobe without breaking the bank?
Where should I turn to cure insomnia/beat the blues/be kinder to myself?
I hope you’ll come to think of me as that loyal girlfriend who calls it exactly as she sees it (but in a nice way) and as a trusty scout on this exhilarating and sometimes exasperating midlife adventure. Let’s make this a two-sided conversation, OK? I really value your views, tips and suggestions, so please, comment away!
At my core I believe:
Knowledge is power.
In vulnerability lies strength.
Personal connection is key to happiness.
Looking good almost always makes you feel good.
Having fun must be taken very, very seriously.
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