On Dressing Well

credit: Sartorialist

On my mind

For me, the beauty of the blog is sharing without actually sharing. Clearly, this is not a diary, but it is a log of sorts, spelling out things that are happening in my life and in my commerce. Therefore, it makes it a bit challenging when one's mind is plagued with things that are not bloggable. We can attempt to talk in general terms, but that just seems a waste of everyone's reading time, so let me try and be general without being too general?

Family: Aren't these the most wonderful and complicated relationships? Truly, I find them to be mysterious. We all feel so viscerally about them, whether that be a positive or negative reaction and what binds our emotions is that we all have them. Family, that is. We love them. They drive us nuts. But most of all, these relationships so heavily influence our decisions and directions and opinions, whether we want them to or not. I am personally so fortunate to have an incredible family, but I will tell you, the older I get the more I see how much I am a part of their fabric. This both drives me crazy and exhilarates me. Actually, without over simplifying the subject matter, let me say that maybe this is the ultimate mystery of the familial relationship. It is a paradox.

Professional: You know, I'm not one to view my professional life as defining. I loathe the "What do you do?" question. The inference that my job is what I do. With that being said, most recently find myself more inclined to have personal investment in my 9 - 5 job. This is for various reasons; a recent promotion, increased power and flexibility and work on more interesting subject matter. But, what I find most problematic about this is the ways in which that personal investment causes affect outside of the work place. I used to leave work and at the same time left any sort of stress attached to the environment. Most recently, I'm finding myself spending significant time outside of the work place mentally engaging that which is troubling to me. From one stand point, I can see that positive with this in that, I care. That is great and I am fortunate to be in a place where I care about that which I am doing. Yet, this weighs me down. I'll be honest. When things aren't right, I can't help but dedicate extra energies to thinking them through and frankly, right now, that tires me.

Life is Good: I'm so fond of my life. I really am. I am afforded so many privileges and opportunities and frankly, just more than I could ever need. I have people who love me. I am spiritually strong. I eat great food. I buy nice things and I also am able to do that which I find rewarding and fruitful, therefore, I always feel a bit guilty about complaining. This has much to do with how I was raised. A good protestant doesn't complain too much because that reflect an attitude of ungratefulness and we are first and foremost to be grateful. With this, I agree, but let me say that I think change and progression actually comes with a little complaining. I heard a speech this weekend at the commencement ceremony I worked by John Patrick Shanley. Let me say firs that I thought it was terrible. Self indulgent and seemingly disinterested in the audience. Having said that, I did take away a message from it. It is because we are uncomfortable that we make progress. Life is generally uncomfortable, so we work to make it better. This is ringing very true for me. Because so much is so good and I am so thankful for that which is more than comfortable, I am aiming to tackle that which is most uncomfortable and work to make it stronger and better and more manageable. Frankly, this sucks. It's amazing how we can say that we know certain things will be hard and we can tell everyone how hard they will be and we can try and prepare ourselves for the ways in which they will be hard, but being in the midst of something hard totally sucks. But, I really believe because things are good, it is worth it.

On Inspiration Friday

On my Duluth Pack

A few weeks ago, I blogged about finding a proper backpack for the summer, work, and bicycling. After much thought and research I decided upon the Duluth Pack, Scout Pack. When I placed the order, I immediately received a personal email from the store letting me know that pack was out of stock, but they would be making it within the week and send it on my way. Despite my impatient self being irritated that I couldn't get it right away, I was pleased to know that a handmade pack would be arriving at my doorstep shortly.

Well, yesterday was the day and boy am I pleased.









Clearly, this is made to last. I purchased the waxed pack as I wanted it to deflect water. Overall, it is the perfect size. It will hold my lap top, or a change of clothes, or some magazines and lunch... or maybe even some magazines, beach towel and sunscreen? I think it is going to work out quite well.

Well done, Duluth Pack.

On Dancin' in The Street

You know, I don't know much about Hockey. The truth of the matter is that I actually do know quite a bit about most sports. I tried my hand at most of them when I was young, only to realize my calling was to other things, but Hockey was not one of them. Therefore, this bit of craze in the City of Chicago around the Blackhawks wining the Stanley Cup could potentially be met with disinterest on my part, but, not so quick.

Last night, Scott and I went to a lovely dinner at Spring in Wicker Park, taking full advantage of his recently purchased groupon. On our way there, I joked that we would be the only people in the restaurant as the rest were crowded in bars watching the potential final game of Stanley Cup Series. We weren't, but there was definitely an energy in the street that didn't involve most people going out to dinner. We enjoyed our meal quite thoroughly. Some dishes definitely stood out to me more than others, particularly this lemon grass coconut soup stood out to me. It was incredibly flavor filled.


After dinner, we made our way out into the street and came across this.



People standing outside the Blueline doing their best to catch a glimpse of the final moments of the game. To be perfectly honest, we proceeded to the Violet Hour for an after dinner drink, but upon our exit the Hawks had completed their task. They had won the Stanley Cup. The streets had erupted.

I was transported back to 2005 when I was working downtown and the White Sox won the world series. The celebratory parade passed by our offices and I had never seen anything quite like. People hanging out windows, climbing up poles, generally celebrating. My second similar experience that to me had so much more significant meaning was the Obama's election night in Grant Park, Chicago. The energy of the crowd, the celebration, the whole evening was like nothing I had ever experienced before. I will always treasure it.

So, last night, in Wicker Park, the streets were abuzz and although it paled in comparison Obama's victory or even the White Sox parade, I was reminded what is like to be around the thrilling energy of positive victory. To be on the winning side. To know, that although I don't know much about hockey, I live in a city that was celebrating on Hockey's behalf and I could be a part of that. I didn't dance in the street, but I was highly amused by those who were. I hear Clark street was a whole different story, but let me be just a little idealistic about the whole thing.

On Floriole and Conversation

I finally made my way over to the new bakery in Lincoln Park called Floriole. It's a charming little joint with a small and pleasing selection of baked goods and lunch options. I enjoyed a delicious cucumber salad with goat cheese, olives and cherry tomatoes as well as an unbelievably fluffy Asparagus Quiche.

I was particularly impressed because my lunch companion looked at my quiche and said "I haven't seen a quiche like that since I ate at Tartine in San Francisco. To which the gentleman at the register said "Huh. Well, that is where (Insert name of woman who bakes for Floriole) trained." Good eye!

Somehow I managed to escape without eating something sweet (which my boss managed to chastise me about) but I will certainly be back as I quite enjoyed just sitting in the space.

Can I just say briefly that lunchtime conversations are some of my favorite? Today I was able to have lunch with a dear friend and mentor and I was reminded that there is something quite pointed about a lunchtime conversation, maybe more so than dinner. Usually the time frame is short and the meal takes less energy, so the conversation takes precedent.

I am privileged to enjoy the people I work with and eat a good hour's lunch with them daily, so I know how valuable that conversation time can be. It's amazing how much business we get done there, so casually, in the midst of recapping our evenings and bad television.

But, there is something to be said for meeting someone for a delicious lunch. The noon hour might just be the most mentally clear of the day. Because of the limited time frame, the pressure to sustain is off and the conversation can just flow. Much can be accomplished. It's a beautiful thing to engage in and take advantage of.

On Bedside Tables

I've been on the hunt for bedside tables for quite sometime. Nearly a year to be exact. I had a fantasy that I would find something kind of vintage and odd for either side, but I have to admit something; I'm not that into searching out vintage things. It is a lot of time and lot of work. Although I like it in theory, I'd rather acquire one of a kind odd vintagey things from family or friends, not from hours of shopping.

So, this weekend, given some extra freedom in my schedule and a willing gentleman with a car, I decided it was time to just go get something so I wouldn't have to set my nighttime glasses of water on the floor next to my recharging iPhone. My original intention was just to pick up some sort of odd looking wood cabinets that didn't match from IKEA. I had seen something online that looked practical, but as many things go with IKEA it was pretty cheap looking in person.

Then, somehow magically in the office supplies department we came across these vintage looking supply cabinets that magically fit the bill.




They are a little off, a little practical, and pretty sweet. They remind me of summers in the high school where my father taught, when I would help him clean his classroom. It's also just a joy to now have somewhere to put my remote and my glasses.

On Inspiration Friday

On Difficult Conversations

Yesterday was a stress filled day. In the spirit of vagueness, I won't disclose all of the reasons why, but let me say that they centered around the theme of conversation, speech and presentation of information. To me, these things are an art. I pride myself in my ability to navigate them and do them quite well. I think one of my positive contributing factors is that my Father is/was a minister and a teacher. He has spent the majority of his life communicating messages that require passion and boldness and that is my model. I try and want to do the same, but no matter how comfortable or secure one feels about speech, there is still a challenge in certain subject matter.

Yesterday afternoon, I felt this in full anxiety. I was at my desk and my jaw began to ache. At first I began to think that I was suffering continuing dental pain, but I realized, I was nervous. The weight of words was felt heavily on my shoulders and clearly pressing in on my jaw. What a bizarre feeling. So much of that anxiety is tied up in the subconscious. I'm pretty good at talking myself out of being nervous, but there is a reason this happens.

No matter what you say or how well you say it, there is still an underlying raw reality to that which you are communicating. You can do it with precision and ease, but your message has a core and a heart and there is nothing you can do about that. You have to accept it for what and trust that it will run its course no matter how badly or beautifully you share it.

How is that for vague?

I think personally, what I am highlighting in saying this is that relationship, communication, interaction require an element of surrender. We have to give up control if we truly want to do these things and that is incredibly hard. Especially if it is something you think you're pretty good at, but no matter how good you are, these things require the surrender to content. If you feel strongly about the content, you have to trust that it will speak for itself.

On Periodicals

If you know just a little bit about me, you may know that I'm a bit of a magazine junky. I do my best to limit my purchases and typically reserve major periodical purchases for trips where I will be spending significant time in transit and therefore actually read the mags thoroughly. But, regardless, I can hardly help myself from purchasing more mini books than any man could ever need.

I think my fascination with photography was what initially attracted me to the rags. It is one of the few places where you can regularly take in new and interesting images, often taken by contemporary art photographers.

As I got home from work last night I was looking through all the periodicals I had purchased in New York, wondering if I would ever be able to read them all, but the truth of the matter is, I don't care. I like having them. For me, they something about things are contemporary and their presence is a good reminder of that which is positively impermanent. They also look great on my coffee table and are good to take on the bus with me when opt for a non-bike-riding-day.

So what am I reading that I picked up in NYC? Well, here are a few of my favs.

Apartamento is pretty much exactly how I would want to make an interiors magazine. It is somewhat informal and candid, but beautifully shows warm and personal spaces with interesting stories. This magazine I feel like I can go back to over and over.






Monocle is hard to explain. It describes itself as "A briefing on global affairs, business, culture and design." It almost seems like a fleshed out New Yorker (which I recently subscribed too!) with a bit more consumerism. It is above all else, well designed with incredible writing. The aesthetic is very graphic.






Finally, Fantastic Man I have been smitten with since my first read. Not only is it designed beautifully, profiling men that I genuinely find fascinating (cover guy Wolfgang Tillmans!) but it is also super cheeky. It makes me laugh because it is the painfully self-aware written word of the modern dandy. It is one of the only periodicals I regularly read that seems fresh.