In the spirit of love, I chose the Day after Day Dress in Hearts by one of my favorite designers, UK-based Emily & Fin.  I have to confess I knew I would adore it well before it arrived, because I already own it in another print!  One of my favorite things about this dress is that it is often mistaken for actual vintage.  I love vintage garments with all of my heart, but they can be very fragile due to their age.  I’m tough on my clothes, so I’ve learned to save most of my delicate old treasures for special occasions. But what am I going to wear the rest of the time?  Sturdy, comfortable, washable Emily & Fin dresses are just the thing to fill my retro needs.

it’s hard to wear a frown alongside a dress this unabashedly joyful.

DRESS: Emily & Fin via ModCloth | TIGHTS: Anthropologie | NECKLACES: Forever 21 | EYEWEAR: SEE Eyewear | SHOES: Vintage | PHOTO CREDIT: David DeNee

i always feel like a lady in emily & fin.

PHOTO CREDIT: David DeNee

And this dress has spunk! What may look like polka dots at first glance are actually tiny white hearts on a bed of hot sherbet pink. While the print makes it perfect for the Valentine season, it’s going to be fun frolicking around town all spring & summer in this darling feminine number. It’s hard to wear a frown alongside a dress this unabashedly joyful.

Bottom Line: Forget clapping.  If you’re happy & you know it, get this dress!

since it’s too cold to shoot outdoors, we brought a bit of nature inside for this blushing bride-esque shot.

(BONUS FASHION SECRET: I’m wearing a child’s cardi from Uniqlo – great for us high-waisted girls!)

CARDIGAN: Uniqlo | PHOTO CREDIT: David DeNee

he loves me?  he loves me not?

PHOTO CREDIT: David DeNee

he loves me.

PHOTO CREDIT: David DeNee

DRESS: Vintage via Fab.com | SHOES: Pink Studio | BRACELET: Vintage | EYEWEAR: SEE | PHOTO CREDIT: David DeNee

My mother, Mary, grew up in an old-fashioned sort of way. Named after family friend Sister Mary Celine (before she resigned the habit and went back to being good ol’ Louise Brogioli), my mom was raised on a poultry farm in Franklin, Massachusetts, right next door to the farm on which her father was born and raised. It’s the same town in which I was raised, but both farms were gone by the time I came along.

my mom posing in her tap dancing costume as a young girl

PHOTO CREDIT: David DeNee

The oldest girl of 6 kids, my mother is full of rich stories from her childhood. Stories about sneaking baby piglets out of their pen to show off to friends, only to have the mamma pig practically take the whole pen down in a rage.  Stories about baking dozens of cookies and not letting any of her siblings touch them until they were all done so she could enjoy the look of them piled high on a plate before they were devoured. Stories of water-skiing adventures and summer loves on Cape Cod. Stories of Bobby Sherman, David Cassidy, and Donnie Osmond.

When my mother was a girl, she asked for sewing lessons in lieu of taking the usual piano route. Sewing became more than a hobby for my mom, it was and continues to be her craft. In fact, my mother speaks of her passion for sewing as a calling (which luckily stuck a little better than good ol’ Louise Brogioli’s). When she found herself having to raise two children on her own in her mid-twenties, sewing was her secret weapon, a trade she fed a family on.

My childhood was in many ways different from that of my mother. We had house cats rather than a plethora of farm animals. I never baked. I was a nerd; there were no summer loves (not to worry; I’ve caught up!). But my mother was full of these stories of another time and, in this modern age where tradesmen seem to be increasingly a thing of the past, she was living proof of another way of doing things.

my mom on her wedding day in a dress and hat she made herself

PHOTO CREDIT: David DeNee

The realities of single motherhood are not always pretty and they take their toll on the things you once held dear. The mother I grew up with was a pillar of strength and, frankly, tough as nails. The antithesis of self-indulgent, the woman who once made her own wedding gown, as well as countless other hip handmade fashions for herself, slowly melted into one that did not often consider her own personal style.

But she sure as hell considered mine! My mother made the majority of my clothes from birth to age 10 (including an intense poodle skirt phase), then resurrected the practice in time to make my lavender organza prom dress complete with three-tiered bustle. She brushed my hair into side ponies when that was the thing, and often took me to get my nails done as a special treat. Mind you, she didn’t get her nails done. It was special just for me. I had the most authentic, ornate Halloween costumes (mostly Dorothy Gale from Kansas), often inspired by the old movies she encouraged me to watch. Once when I was looking to go as Scarlett O’Hara, she insisted I wear a parka underneath my costume to avoid catching my death. I looked so pleasantly plump and unexpectedly frumpy in the costume as a result; we decided I looked more like the homeless “Feed the Birds” lady from Mary Poppins and went with that instead. Not our finest collaboration, but truly the exception to the rule.

With the kids out of the nest, the energy put into decorating her children has gone full tilt into decorating her beautiful home. I call to try to convince her to make me a dress, and she gives me an earful on how the new mulch matches the shutters. My mom is now a professional seamstress and successful small business owner specializing in custom draperies and a host of interior design elements; both of our homes are filled with phenomenal window treatments and otherwise unattainable, luxurious finishing touches.

mom’s house

PHOTO CREDIT: David DeNee

I was very bookish and ambitious growing up; I had no patience for sewing. And while my mom didn’t have much time to bestow some of the more traditional life skills, like baking (not that I would have stood for it), she ultimately taught me everything I needed to know to be my best self as an adult. Throughout my life, Mom emphasized the importance of hard work and lovely presentation, disciplines that seem to be part of my DNA they are so ingrained. She taught me to celebrate my femininity, especially when it became clear I was shaping up to be a girlie kind of girl.  She taught me to open my mind and be kind to people from all walks of life. She taught me the therapeutic power of nostalgia when blended with the art of great storytelling. Simply put, I was raised by the most creative, resilient, marvelous woman I’ve ever met, and sometimes I even think a little of that has rubbed off on me.

When you consider my passion for fashion, it’s no surprise that one of my biggest regrets is that I never really learned the art of sewing despite growing up entrenched in the business, helping in my mother’s shop everyday throughout my youth. Both my mom and milliner friend Gretchen insist the sewing bug skips a generation. For my future daughter’s sake, I hope that’s true.

Happy birthday, Mom.

mom & my stepdad, bob, paddling a swan boat in new england

PHOTO CREDIT: David DeNee

You will forget to feed your cats.

(Only for a negligible amount of time, thank goodness.)

At times you will feel so downright narcissistic, the guilt will make you consider chucking it all (for like a second) to dive headfirst into a pint of this. You’ll soon realize you can have both a blog and Ben & Jerry’s; thus the cycle of self-indulgence will be complete.

And you’ll start thinking of yourself as a brand.  This is where the real danger lives. You will question your distinctiveness, especially if you live in this ocean of marvelous style called New York City….

falling in love with the camera(man) at michael arenella’s bi-annual jazz age lawn party on governor’s island

DRESS: H&M | PEARLS: Overstock | HEADBAND: a Garment District find | PHOTO CREDIT: David DeNee

desperately seeking a great pair of wedges at dsw in union square

HAT: Gretchen Fenston | COAT, GLOVES & BROOCH: vintage | PHOTO CREDIT: David DeNee

languidly awaiting a screening of e.t. in brooklyn bridge park

DRESS: Emily & Fin on ModCloth | SUNGLASSES: a gift from Heather Flock | PHOTO CREDIT: David DeNee

reading the greatest speech in history (a lesson on the impact of brevity)

DRESS: Anthropologie | SHOES: Dansko | HANDBAG: vintage | PHOTO CREDIT: David DeNee

twirling my heart out at the easter parade on fifth avenue in nyc

HAT: Gretchen Fenston | DRESS: Trashy Diva | SHOES: Seychelles | PARASOL: LuggagePoint via Amazon | PHOTO CREDIT: David DeNee

waiting for a sign in halifax, nova scotia

DRESS: Soho Mode via Buffalo Exchange | SHOES: Born | HANDBAG: Kate Spade | PHOTO CREDIT: David DeNee

I’ve wanted to start a blog for a while now.

A blog to revel in my passion for vintage style. I love old things and how fashion is somehow constantly making them new again. I love to see history owned and embraced, even if merely via the clothes on our backs.

A blog to return the inspiration others have given me. Like I said in my ModCloth video mission statement, I believe great style is contagious and I want to give it to everyone!

A blog my mom will be proud of. (Hi, mom!)

I wasn’t sure it was ever going to happen, but somewhere in the middle of the night last night in the midst of our apartment-turned-upside-down, I gained some clarity. My boyfriend, Dave, and I started choosing the final images for this our very first post. After staring at shot after shot of myself (which is akin to trying on bathing suits, ladies) and seeing most of them hit the cutting room floor, I started to see a pattern. Maybe it’s just me, but I see something special in the pictures Dave takes of me, especially the ones where I’m not letting my insecurities get in the way of his lens. This special quality I’m talking about can be described pretty simply.

Love.

I looked at all these places we’ve been together and this little digital oasis we’ve created and I thought: Hey, we make a pretty great team.

There are countless reasons not to start a blog, but as long as the cats are fed, none of them matter.

Stay tuned. Adventures in vintage are just around the corner!