This year I am dead serious and feel like Ertha Kitt.
I don’t have expectations, but I have standards and I am turning 50
It can mean on the phone too, because don’t you dare forget my birthday. The Pomellato Nudo is always been on my top list.
A small act of kindness. Why is it that I have never been attached to owning an apartment, a property? Is it the nomad in me, am I a hobo by nature? I do adapt where I am, luxury is a state of mind. It’s an attitude.
As for the furs, I believe in vintage, flea markets and second-hand real furs and I have no intention of offending anyone, we’ll have to agree to disagree, or be more empathetic.
Yes, under the mistletoe and with these booties.
I turned a big fan of #sottolapelliccianiente
A ‘54 convertible, blue
Always dreamed of a vintage convertible, preferably a Mercedez Benz 2 seater the color of a pool in the winter
It could very well be an E-Type and I know the Prince will not be included, I know. I’ll have the kiss above.
A trip to a chic beach for New Years? Some St. Barth or Cat Key or Eleuthera to welcome the new year barefoot, sand, crashing waves and moon, champagne of course. But, somehow, when I think of the holidays, even after 22 years in subtropical Miami, I always think of snow and cold and fireplace, hence The Holiday as my favorite Christmas movie of all times.
My Santa Baby list always also includes hints of my new year’s intention. Every year I think of a word that will serve as support, exhortation, encouragement, guidance for the year to come. I have stopped making the dreaded resolutions years ago. Living with a list hanging on my neck would give me the anxiety of trying to fix my life with dreams I had no control over, the disillusion of failure by day 15/365 and the social pressure of having to conform to a habit that didn’t bring me pleasure.
Instead I thought of a risk management tool: what to do in case of adversity. Shit happens and when you think of your NY resolution, you prospect nothing short from idillic, you are never prepared for the flat tire on the causeway type of reality. So counting on a bit of meditation, an overlook at the year gone and the many, many accomplishments that one never pats oneself on the shoulder for, I incept a sort of cathartic experience that manifests that one word.
So (drumroll, ball-drop moment, 10 … 9 .. 8 ) the word for the year is courage which I add to the many sexy, frivolous, materialistic and, of course, rewarding and celebratory words that fill this Santa Baby list.
This year I had to face adversity, such as an Administration with which I share no values, the reality of increased violence and aggressive behavior in the streets where I live, the still unresolved loss of my grandmother and other close friends. A woman and a mother always finds the strength somewhere within to keep going and remain human “but also within the human woman is the animal instinctual Self. […] This Self must have freedom to move, to speak, to be angry and to create. The Self is durable, resilient, and possesses high intuition. […] She is the soul-maker, the wolf-raiser, the keeper of things wild.” - Women Who Run With the Wolves
I found the courage to express my opinion and the satisfying feeling that generates from freely admitting that I love writing, producing meaningful content, knowing that there’s a small tight tribe inspired by what I say and how I say it. It took me 50 years to realize how courage is empowering and that I am worth every single thought, idea and action I generate, that courage will be a thing for 2019.
Happy New Year