Unapologetic

Way back in September, Miek surprised me for my 26th birthday with tickets to see Rihanna in Boston — the show scheduled for March 10. We booked a quaint little Beacon Hill hotel through Jetsetter, and spent the next few months getting excited.

On our way down to the show last week, Miek got a weird 1-800 number call. It was Ticketmaster informing us of Rihanna’s “laryngitis” and need to cancel the Boston show. Slightly deflated <understatement>, we decided to keep driving and make the most of the weekend.

Despite dropping my debit card at the south-bound rest stop (and not realizing this fact until reaching into my wallet at a store on Newbury Street…), and mourning the canceled show, we still had a pretty fun time. A lesson for me in “going with the flow” and taking things as they come. When you’re with your best friend and it finally feels a smidgen like spring, few things can completely dampen spirits.

Some highlights:

1.) The snug Beacon Hill Hotel and Bistro. Gray-walled and archetypically “New England”, this hotel had class without being pretentious, comfortable rooms despite being small in footprint, and a world-class staff. The spunky blonde bartender gave us waters and sodas for free after an afternoon of walking the city, and the front-desk concierge stopped up late-night and fixed our Direct TV with a smile. Owned by an American and a Swede, the hotel is undeniably European. A nice departure from the “big box” hotels that pepper the city.

2.) Laughing at the ridiculously haughty and pompous worker at Levi’s. Look, I know you’re working on Newbury Street — the self-proclaimed “Rodeo Drive” of Boston — but come on, you’re hocking denim. The wardrobe workhorse. No matter how “museum quality meets boutique” you say they are, they are still jeans. And I found better ones for $10 at the Forever 21 down the street.

3.) Running through the chilly North End streets after dinner to pick up to-go cannoli at Modern Pastry. Miek lived in Boston during college, but had never been to this family-run Italian joint. It was well worth the wait.

SittingRoomBHHBHHRoomBHHClosetBHHRoom1BHHBathroomDetailBHHBathroom1BHHArtxo Al

This Old Thing?

Two years ago, my mom opened up a consignment/vintage shop called This Old Thing? on Route 302 in Westbrook, Maine. A life-long dream realized, her charming shop features three rooms jam-packed with vintage jewelry, clothing, formal wear, house and kitchen items and antiques. So, next time you are headed to the mountains or the lake, or are in the mood for an after-brunch shopping spree, check her out (and tell her I sent you!)  SueShoppers Rooms Puffins KitchenRoom JewelryTable Hallway2 Hallway Casio Case Brooch Bows

xo Al

Holiday Spirit

I’m really in the ho-ho-holiday spirit this year. I love Christmas music, classic holiday movies (for example, Miracle on 34th Street, A Charlie Brown Christmas, Frosty the Snowman, A Christmas Carol…and on and on), all the special food, and family time. I know it’s not even December yet, but I just can’t help it.

Happy Holidays, reindeers *ahem* I mean, readers! ❤

xo Al

Italia

I embarked on my first trip to Europe one misty morning last October. After consulting my best friend Brooke about the fashion of Italian women (she had spent a semester abroad in Florence during our junior year of college and said “Absolutely no pashminas. Italian women don’t wear them. No flip-flops. Leather is OK. But remember, less is more!”), I crammed a Diane von Furstenburg suitcase full of clothes and shoes, a couple Italian phrasebooks, and headed to Rome. I remember feeling buzzed with excitement the night before we left. The food! The art! The fashion! The history!

From the moment we were picked up by a handsome driver who gave us an informal tour of the city to when we packed up and said goodbye to the flamboyant front desk host at our cozy hotel, Rome did not disappoint. Although we both caught head colds from travel and jet-lag, nothing could have dulled what Miek and I were seeing. I am Catholic but have never been terribly “religious”. Over the years I have cobbled together the framework of my spiritual beliefs in a way that many of my generation have…distancing ourselves from the confines our parents and grandparents experienced. But the Vatican, and St. Peter’s Basilica, and the tiny, medieval churches we stumbled across during our afternoon walks, made me feel closer to a “higher power.”

The pasta was a religious experience too. I had the best espresso I have ever had. Dinner was an event.

As we rode the high-speed train through the Tuscan countryside on our way to Florence for the day, I was seated next to an Italian scholar. A professor perhaps, maybe a doctor. As he studied his journal article, I looked past him to the ancient stone farmhouses and rustic landscape. When we walked the Ponte Vecchio, I felt connected to the merchants who sold their wares there on the bridge hundreds of years ago.

I felt at home in Italy. I felt comfortable in the sunny piazzas, nibbling on a piece of bread with cheese, sipping a glass of the best “house red” ever.

Surrounded by art and history, I felt connected to humanity in a new and different way. I will go back.

Lomography

Instant gratification rules these days. We want what we want and we want it now… Facebook and Twitter updates are sent immediately to our palms, news travels fast and if you blink it is easy to miss a trend or a soundbite or a viral video. When out at a club, on vacation, or sitting on the beach with friends it is easy to vet digital images and delete the ones that are less than satisfactory – “I’m cross-eyed!” “I forgot to smile!” “Who’s that creeper photo-bombing in the background?!” There is a certain self-selection that occurs, and it occurs in real-time. Tagging, pinning, uploading.

Because of this, there is something calming and nostalgic about the click-snap of a camera, winding the film, and taking the milky opaque canisters to the local CVS. Or in my case, the nice old man’s shop on Forest Avenue who still processes 120 mm film.

Up until relatively recently — before some late-night, vodka-fueled online shopping with the boyfriend led us to www.lomography.com — I was happy to indulge in iPhoneography, Hipstamatic and images downloaded off my trusty, ancient Kodak digital camera that survived four years of a liberal arts education (read: dropped on the quad repeatedly, dented and bruised by house parties off-campus at the cool-kids’ Lewiston apartments, and schlepped here, there, and everywhere.)

Added to the photo arsenal: the Actionsampler, Oktomat, Smena 8m, Colorsplash and my personal favorite, the Holga.

Sure, the pictures from the Lomography cameras are not perfect. They are raw and real; stillshots of the unpredictability of life. But I like that.

Don’t get me wrong…I will still update my Tumblr Glittermatic with Hipstamatic uploads. My dented Kodak will still get air time.

The below images are a nice supplement, though.