Living the Fancy Life

Industrial Shopping

So I am leaving for New York City next Thursday to finish up this years buying for Daisy's.  One of the most frequent comments people make when they are walking around the shop is "It must be so much fun to buy for your store." First I will admit, yes it is SUPER fun. There are a few downsides, like aching feet and the nagging feeling I missed the cutest thing there. So I thought I would give you some insight into what goes on in my head during these industrial shopping days.

First, I have to figure out if YOU want to buy the things I think I can't live without.  Did I buy too much or not enough and can I get more?  Yea a new artist! How much are the shipping charges on those candles? When I see the buyers from Pottery Barn do I shake their hand or kick them in the shin? Picture me walking rows of booths thinking there is nothing but ugly, and BOOM, find that one little gem.  Each of these rows usually begins and ends with weird wind-chime companies that have fans running on high so you can hear the lovely sound (Note: I hate wind-chimes). 

The time line for a day at a gift show is usually the same as trying to put on a wedding in one shopping trip. Be ready for work at 7 a.m. and grab a cup of Starbucks while reviewing the day before your first appointment at 8:30 a.m. Regular show hours are usually 9 a.m., so then it is time to walk those rows looking for the next latest and greatest.  The Atlanta show, that I always attend in January, is 7 million square feet of permanent showrooms and temporary booth spaces.  At about 1 p.m. I realize that I have downed 4 bottles of water and had nothing to eat, so I run to find the closest ladies room and hope the line isn't out the door.  Then it is time to shop in a larger permanent showroom where they always put out a decent spread for lunch.  Now with an energy boost, I'm back to shopping. At this point I usually try and find a line or two of cards so I can sit for a few minutes and peek through the decks looking for the best ones.  Regular showrooms close between 6 and 8 p.m. depending on the day of the show.  Then it is time to have dinner with a rep or another shop owner I only see at shows. I try to land at the hotel about 9 p.m. Now it is time to turn into a secretary and record my orders make sure they say what I think they said and make notes for the next day.  The night ends falling asleep with my laptop in my lap with an episode of Sienfeld on. 

So that sounded like a lot of whining but in reality it is very energizing.  The creativity in people amazes me.  Things designed beautifully and displayed in such creative ways make me want to  never sleep. When you come see Daisy's I have a lot of great things to work with in so many different textures and elements it isn't really hard to make it look good.  However you go to a booth that only has picture frames or nothing but clear glass and see it displayed with such style and panache that you feel compelled to buy it.  Talking with the designers that create all the beautiful items makes me dream of what I would design to make life prettier.

I promise to blog when I am gone and show you what I find each day.  Actually it is we, as I am taking Jillian with me.

Sense of Style

All the beautiful kitchen images came from House Beautiful Magazine, Style Statement is the perfect book, workbook really when you need to define what stays and what goes in a pile of stuff (more on this one later), several of the accessory items can be purchased at Daisy's, The amazing bakery is Balthazar in NYC and their ceiling is a work of art. One thing is for sure, that little girl has a sense of style.

There is a famous quote from one of the all time best movies ever made, Miracle on 34^th Street.  “As old as my tongue and a bit older than my teeth” said Kris Kringle when asked of his age.  So when is your sense of style born?  No matter you’re your taste in home décor or clothing it began when you were little.  Of course it has evolved, but the root of it is still inside you and it began when you were much younger.  The first time I announced a glimmer of my style was to my mom when I was just about 5 years old. 

Here is a little back-story you need to know to get a true vision of the moment.  I had an imaginary friend.  Her name was Tuhootie.  Technically she was named by my Grandma as a way of teaching me not to stand by the door of the elevator in her building.  She started saying step back and let Tuhootie in.  Within a few rides Tuhootie and I were fast friends.  She became a great playmate as she was always on my side and wanted to play exactly what I wanted.  When I fought with my mom, Tuhootie was there to defend my honor. 

The summer before I started kindergarten my mom and I got into a bit of a match about something.  Before I knew it I was sitting on the bench in Grandma’s bedroom waiting until I could say, “I am sorry” without sticking out my tongue.  Finally I was able to master the sentence enough to release me from my confinement.  I waited a minute or 2 announced “Tuhootie has all white bathrooms and a beautiful white kitchen and you don’t” (I remember Perry Como playing in the back-round). I was giving my mom quite the insult, as I knew she hated the 50’s pink we currently were living with. 

 I didn’t think of that story for years, ok decades really.  A few years back I was looking through the “kitchen folder of dreams” that I pack every picture and sketch I have saved to build the Taj Mahal of kitchens.  If you look at them it doesn’t take long to figure out I have a full on obsession with white kitchens.  When I was five I probably didn’t have the exact dimensions of the marble on the island or the honed black granite on the workstations.  There was no drawing of the reverse-painted glass sliding doors that would cover the cabinet holding 100+ platters.  Of course I hadn’t pictured how a refrigerator, bigger than a Cadillac, would shine.  However somewhere in a teeny tiny little girl there lived a sense that a grand kitchen was white. 

So when do you first remember your style?