With Apologies to Readers...and Audrey

       I am so sorry I haven't posted for the last week.

       We closed on our new house on Tuesday, and I have been so absolutely thrilled that I didn't want to be Audrey anymore.

       I just wanted to be me!

       After the closing, Tom and I went to the house for a few hours and soaked in our new pool and in the realization that this beautiful home is ours, after almost a year of effort to make it that way.

       Tom said at one point that it is a house suitable for Audrey. But I didn't even care. What is most important is that it is a house perfect for us...

       I have had a few unusual Audrey moments over the last week, however.

       Last Saturday, for example, the former owner invited us over to the house to show us how to operate and care for several features of the home. At one point, he insisted that I come deep into the crawl space with him so he could show me the source of water for an indoor waterfall. I, naturally, was dressed in my Audrey fashions, including a white blouse, heels and a scarf around my neck. In order to get to the water source, we had to snake on our bellies under a beam. And after I snaked back out again, I discovered that my blouse had remained spotless -- just like Audrey's always perfect blouse in "Roman Holiday". 

       I have had less success than before though with my perky reminder phone calls to workers and suppliers. On Wednesday, for example, although three people were supposed to meet me at the house, only one actually showed up. 

       Everyone tells me that is par for the course, and Tom says that even Audrey likely would have had trouble dealing with contractors.

       And honestly, I don't even feel too upset about it.

       Audrey's work with UNICEF (as well as difficulties faced by friends and family members) reminds me that there are way worse things in life than delayed renovations in one's beautiful new home.

       Indeed, I count my blessings.

     

My Own Roman Holiday

WARNING to TOM: Please don't read this, sweetheart, okay? You are working so hard, and today's posting is bound to seem a little unfair...

       In the movie Roman Holiday, Audrey Hepburn plays a princess who is getting a little stressed out by her royal duties. So she runs away -- just for one glorious day -- and spends it fulfilling her whims and wishes.

       Well, I'm no princess, but I have been a little stressed out lately too. 

       Our house closing is only five days away, and for the last several weeks, I have been busily taking care of all the details that entails. I keep checklists and a calendar by the phone; I wait impatiently for calls back; I am trying to arrange for some renovations of the new house; I am seeking approval from an architectural review committee; I am trying to rent our current home. The list goes on and on.

       So I decided to run away today, like Audrey did, and take a little holiday myself.

       My day was inspired by a good friend who a few days ago suggested we meet for breakfast today, at a lovely local restaurant with tables under the trees in a little garden.  It seemed such a wonderful idea that I decided to stretch it out a bit, and made some appointments -- not for the house, but just for me.

       So after a lovely and lazy breakfast (crepes and French press coffee),  I went to a hair salon. And like Audrey did in Roman Holiday, I got a haircut, although nothing as short as hers in the movie.  I enjoyed a lovely head massage, skimmed fashion magazines, chatted with and hugged (and tipped) the stylist, and then came straight home -- without running any errands along the way. 

       Once at home,  I walked Olympia and then curled up with her for a furry 45-minute nap.  

       And then it was off to the spa for a facial. 

       While waiting for my appointment, I sipped herbal tea and read a few pages from a book called "The Art of Doing Nothing".  On the book's advice, I practiced some deep breathing, and I learned about the unexpected benefits of procrastination.

        And then, after my treatment, I came home --  like Audrey did -- back to my duties.

        Over the last couple of hours, I confirmed our new cable and phone service, called the bank, picked up the dry cleaning and spoke to our realtor about our scheduled final walk-through of the house on Monday. 

       And suddenly, after my little Roman Holiday, all of it seems just fine. In fact, it seems absolutely glorious.

Back-Handed Compliments?

       Tom and I live in a fairly casual community, where people are way more likely to wear jeans and hiking boots than dress pants and heels. 

       I was caught off guard by this originally.  I still remember, with pain, being invited to a house party our first year here, and wearing chic party clothes like I would have in New York, but finding all the other guests were wearing cords and bulky sweaters.  

       Over the years though, I have made more of an effort to fit in. I have added color to my nearly all-black New York wardrobe. I wear comfy Croc sandals regularly -- sometimes even in snow. I still don't feel quite right in jeans, but I have been wearing the same wide-legged khaki pants almost every day this summer. Honestly, many days I hardly think about what I am wearing at all.

       Since beginning to emulate Audrey Hepburn, however, I have started to pay a bit more attention again to my look.  I am wearing heels more often. I have worn skirts  and dresses a few times, and occasionally will wear a scarf. And I have been feeling good about these changes.

       Except for one thing...

       People, even people I hardly know, have been giving me compliments.  

       For instance, I was out walking Olympia recently. I was wearing a skirt, a pretty sleeveless blouse and heels and had my hair twisted up. A woman from a nearby office building came out to give Olympia her usual dose of attention and commented on how nice Oly looked with her new summer haircut. And then the woman looked up at me and commented, "Oh my! And don't you look lovely today too!" 

       Is that supposed to be a compliment? Someone who sees me nearly every day compares my loveliness to my dog? (I admit, Olympia is a traffic stopper, but still...) And what did she mean that I looked lovely today? Was that some kind of inference that I normally don't look so good?

       And there was the grocery store clerk this past weekend. I was wearing a beaded tank top, a large scarf arrayed loosely around my neck, and sunglasses (but not Audrey sunglasses) and he said "You look great. Wow!" I see this clerk nearly every time I go shopping. He even sometimes opens a cash register for me so that I don't  have to stand in line. He often says that he is glad to see me. But never in the last few years that he has been working at the store has he ever commented on my appearance. Once again, I felt annoyed that he seemed to be suggesting that I looked different than usual somehow...or maybe that my usual appearance did not warrant a comment.

       I didn't even thank the guy. I think I may have snorted instead -- something Audrey likely would not have done.

       So while I feel half-inclined to continue making these little fashion efforts, I also feel half-inclined to simply say, "Screw you, everyone! I am what I am!"

       Do you know what I mean?

Not Alone

       While cleaning out a file drawer the other night, in preparation for our move, the paper shredder fell over -- right onto my foot. And although I tried to teach Tom a lesson in restraint by not screaming, it did hurt pretty badly.  

       Tom got ice for me right away, but I could feel the foot swelling despite our desperate ministrations. So I finally had to sit down and take a break. Tom sweetly suggested that we watch Roman Holiday together on DVD.

       The movie was adorable -- even better than I remembered. I'll talk more about it some other day. But what was most surprising to me this time around was the rather unexpected cut of Audrey Hepburn's "princess gown" in the movie.  

       To my total -- and I mean TOTAL shock, I realized that my wedding dress, worn just over 15 years ago when I married Tom, is nearly exactly the same dress as Audrey's ball gown in the movie. 

       Sure, I wore mine without a sash, crown and medals, but it is otherwise almost identical.  

       How did that happen? 

       I was actually trying to avoid the whole "princess" thing at my wedding -- no train, no elaborate lace or sparkles on my dress, nothing poofy.  I just wanted a simple, elegant ball gown, but somehow ended up looking like Audrey's character in the movie, Princess Ann.

       Is it possible that I was somehow channeling Audrey even back then? Did I somehow purposely, albeit subconsciously, out of the dozens of dresses I tried, choose a dress like Audrey's?

       I get goosebumps just thinking about it.

       But it gets even more strange...

       Is it possible that Michelle Obama was also channeling Audrey Hepburn at her wedding to the man who would become the 44th President of the United States? 

An Audrey Attitude Lesson

       Tuesday (yesterday) morning, I had more appointments booked at the new house, starting at 10:00 a.m. I planned to leave our current home by 9:25 to be sure to get there on time.  

       On Monday afternoon,  I happened to bump into someone working on air conditioning in our condo building who asked if he could come see the pipes in our unit as it might help him to better understand the layout of the pipes in the unit he was working on. I told him he could come at 9:00 Tuesday morning, and that he would have to be out at 9:20. He asked if he could come between 8:00 and 8:30 instead, and I repeated -- firmly, but with a smile -- that he could come at 9.  He agreed.

       Afterwards, I felt a bit guilty. Surely, if I had been more Audrey-like in my attitude, I would have happily told him that he could come at 8:00 a.m.  Even though Audrey would have had to get up extra early to better accommodate the stranger who had nothing to do with work on her unit, surely she would have done it. She probably would have invited the worker in for coffee too. Or maybe tea -- with croissants, or scones perhaps. Maybe she would have made the scones herself. And maybe, after breakfast, she would have made plans to go dancing with him on a barge that evening -- like Audrey did with the barber who cut her hair in Roman Holiday.  

       So when  Tuesday morning came, I decided to try to make up for my failure by being cheery. I saw to it that I was ready and waiting for the worker at 9 a.m. I made extra coffee too.

       But he didn't show up. He didn't show up at 9:05 or 9:10 or 9:15 either. I waited through 9:20 and 9:25...and then I left. 

       And although the worker is the one who failed to show, I was the one who felt guilty.  If only I had been warmer and sweeter and more accommodating, surely he would have come. 

       Today, I saw him in the hallway again. I told him, somewhat accusingly, that I had waited for him yesterday and that he had failed to show.  He looked slightly embarrassed, but didn't apologize.  Nonetheless, I invited him in, right away, to look at my air conditioning unit. 

       Looking at the unit, he commented that my air conditioning pipes looked fine but that the news was not so good for the other owner in the building. 

      Then he pointed out that my air conditioner was dripping and that it looked like the condensate line needed some attention. He pointed to a sticker on the unit, and told me I'd better call the emergency number. 

      In other words, although he was an air conditioning man himself and already there, standing in my home, he did not offer to fix the problem. 

      And I knew that if I had been Audrey, or more Audrey-like, he would have fixed it because we would be fast friends by now. We would have had breakfast together yesterday and laughed about current events or the interesting life of an air conditioner repairman. And he would have kindly fixed my air conditioner, and then we would have made plans to dance on a barge.  And Tom wouldn't have minded too much, because at least it would have saved us the $340.20 I ended up paying the repairman who I had to call today.  

       All I can say now is that Audrey's attitude lessons seem pretty harsh for someone who seems so sweet.

A Small Step Backward

       I'm not claiming to be perfect. So I'll admit that this morning, I took a few items of clothing back out of the piles I was going to give away.

       It wasn't much. But I did rescue my World Series T-shirt. After all, how many people ever get to go to a World Series game in their lifetime...and while there, actually catch a free T-shirt that was tossed into the air? It clearly was meant to be mine.

       And I pulled out two of Tom's college T-shirts. He always gives me extra love when I wear them. And who can resist extra love? 

       I also rescued my turquoise blouse -- again. But I quickly replaced it with a pink blouse that I had hesitated over yesterday. And then I shoved the rest of the clothes into two big garbage bags to take to Goodwill. Although my big red sweatshirt was calling my name, I resisted temptation and tied the bag shut.    

       Finally, I went into the waste basket (not the dumpster, thank goodness) and rescued just one of Tom's old button-down dress shirts. It was so soft and well-worn, and I had to have it back. And, in any case, last night I found a picture of Audrey Hepburn wearing what may have been a man's dress shirt. Hers looks crisp and ironed though, whereas mine was somewhat crumpled after spending the night in the trash.

       Still, if it's good enough for Audrey, surely it's good enough for me.  

Closet Cleaning

       The condominium Tom and I currently live in has very limited closet space. In fact, when we moved in, there was only one closet -- a walk-in one just off our bedroom. We later put in a front hall closet and a small storage space under the stairs. But it still isn't very much room. And as the late George Carlin said in his famous monologue, a house is basically just a place to "keep your stuff....and sometimes you gotta move, gotta get a bigger house. Why? No room for your stuff anymore." 

       As much as Tom and I don't want to admit it, I'm sure that is at least one subconscious reason we want to move. We do need more room for our stuff. At the same time though, we have agreed that we don't want to just move over everything we own. We know that some of our stuff is old, out of style, no longer needed or redundant.  So we agreed to clean out our walk-in closet. 

       I have heard a range of theories on closet cleaning: Throw out everything that you haven't worn in one year. Or is it two years? Don't keep anything you have owned for longer than ten years. Don't wait for out-of-style fashions to come back in style.

       Today, however, I developed and applied my own theory: "What Would Audrey Wear?" 

       Of course, if I was totally true to this question, I would have thrown out everything that wasn't a size 2 and designed by Givenchy. That, however, would have left me with exactly nothing. 

       Luckily, I am a reasonable person. Instead, I tried to consider which items of clothing were stylish without being overly trendy, classic but not dowdy. as well as which items were well-made and flattering.

       I quickly worked my way through my side of the closet.  No longer would I keep over-sized, schlumpy sweatshirts  or fleeces -- even my favorite red one that I tend to wear at least once a year, when I am really cold. No more of Tom's worn out dress shirts, which I love to wear while slouching around or napping. And also no trendy blouses that have somehow grown too small on me, including the turquoise one that I nearly threw out the last time I cleaned the closet. No unlined blazers or jackets. No shorts or skorts. I'm too old for those anyway. And no short tops and tanks that looked so good two years ago, but now look so very wrong. And no men's T-shirts, especially the countless ones that have been given to me at all kinds of sporting events. I never, ever wear those anyway, even though I always imagine they would be good for working out or maybe house-painting -- both of which I generally try not to do.

       All these clothes formed piles for charity, except for Tom's old shirts -- which I put in the waste basket.

       And I went still further -- no more clothes with stains on them. 

       I work hard to keep my clothes clean. I use Oxy-Clean, Spray 'n Wash or Zout. I scrub and re-wash and do my best to get stains out. Occasionally, I am not successful. But often I still keep those stained clothes. Some are former favorites I don't want to give up on. Other times, I figure they are fine for wearing around the house, even though I remain aware, all day long, that they are stained.

       But I can't imagine Audrey ever wearing stained clothes, even just to hang out at home -- even when wearing jeans and a sweatshirt while singing "Moon River". So out they went -- all of them -- this time, right into bags and then into the dumpster.

       I piled up a few other pieces of clothing for short-term storage -- some classic, well-made items that currently are too small on me. Maybe if I diet, or shrink, I will fit into them again. But if that doesn't happen in a year or two, they will be given away too.

       And in only a few hours, I was done cleaning my closet -- Audrey-style.  

       Tom will have to come up with his own theory for his side of the closet.

Something in Common

       After a long July 4 weekend, it was time today to get back down to some of the details of my future home. Although we will not take possession until the end of the month, the current owner is generously making it available to us so we can plan some renovations.  

       I arranged to meet four different workers at the new house -- two handymen, a fence installer and a tile guy. Each was scheduled to arrive on successive hours -- at 2, 3, 4 and 5 PM.  

       Of course, I wanted to be Audrey Hepburn-ish about my busy afternoon.  So I called each of them this morning, and ever-so-sweetly and perkily confirmed that each knew his arrival time, the address of the house, and my cell phone number. 

       Then I had to prepare my appearance. I wanted to look Audrey-like, without making the workmen fear I was  loony. I figured a head scarf would do it. 

       Going through my drawers, I located a narrow white silk scarf with yellow, pink and orange polka dots. Although I had bought it several years ago, thinking it might be a useful accessory, the fact is that I rarely accessorize and had never ever actually found an occasion to use it. I decided that today though I would wear it with khakis and a conservative white tank top -- and low heels instead of sneakers.

       I figured I would wear the scarf just above my bangs and tied low across the back of my neck, under a simple ponytail. But despite repeated efforts, the scarf refused to stay in place. My dark hair is far from thick, and the scarf found nothing substantial to rest on. If I moved at all, the scarf slipped off. 

       Then I remembered that photos of Audrey often show her with a scarf literally wrapped around her head. I have always found that a slightly goofy look. 

       And while watching "War and Peace" with Tom, I remember commenting on how strange it was that she was the only character who appeared to have her hats tied onto her head. 

       Then some internet research showed that Audrey also sometimes wore scarves tied under her chin -- another somewhat inappropriate look in today's times. The only people who do that these days are women with fresh hairdos trying to keep rain off their head, trailer trash trying to hide their curlers...and old Russian ladies.

        And then it struck me that perhaps Audrey and I have something unexpected in common. 

       Yes, although I will never have her thin dancer-like body, maybe I do have her thin pointy head and also her thin wispy hair that apparently refuses to hold a scarf unless it is tied on tightly. Hooray for me!

        After wasting 25 minutes trying unsuccessfully to keep the scarf in my hair and another 10 minutes researching the issue, I had so little time left that I feared I would be late for my 2:00 appointment at the new house -- surely a non- Audrey like behavior.

       So I quickly tied the scarf around my neck, a la Audrey in "Roman Holiday".

       I smiled at myself in the mirror. It was perfect. 

       Then I drove furiously to the suburbs -- in my car, instead of a Vespa -- and was only five minutes late for my first appointment.  

       And everyone else arrived right at their perkily-confirmed appointed hour. 

Channeling Audrey Hepburn

       Tolstoy would be outraged. 

       After he spent five years writing "War and Peace" and I spent one month reading it, the final impression my whole "War and Peace" month made on me was how simply adorable Audrey Hepburn was in the role of Natasha.  

       I have long been an admirer of Audrey Hepburn.  When I was a teenager, I watched the movie "Breakfast at Tiffany's" so many times that I could recite each line of the script before it happened.  It's not my favorite film now, but I will still stop to watch "Roman Holiday" any time it appears on television, even though I have my own DVD of it already.

       There is something so appealing about Hepburn -- something lovely and sweet and warm and innocent, not to mention how great she looks in nearly any item of clothing.

       Maybe I need some of that. 

       At the age of 45, and with the stress of moving and then renovating our new home in the weeks ahead, perhaps I have an excuse to wear sloppy clothes, to give up on the idea of looking good, and to generally be crabby to everyone who crosses me.  

       Instead, I'm going to try to be inspired by Audrey Hepburn. 

       Wish me luck...