A Lucky Lad
A little while back, I regaled ILI readers with my tale of Elaine Envy, my giddy anticipation of reuniting with my beloved baby nurse Elaine who would make a cameo at my sister's place when she gave birth. In that post, I waxed poetic about the stunning nursery my talented sister had thrown together and I told you that I would ask her about posting pictures here.
Yesterday, I had lunch with Sister C and her little lad Baby Bulldog. Together, we sat on her couch as I cradled Bulldog, studied his deep blue eyes, and kissed his tiny toes while C and I simultaneously caught up and watched the end of The Bachelor After the Final Rose. It struck me how crazy it is how things can change and stay the same. In the very same moment, there we were sisters/best friends giggling at mindless television like old times (Ed, man, you aren't hideous but do yourself and your betrothed a favor and lose the tanks) and mothers musing on the majesty of new life. It is good to know that time marches on, but some things never change.
Indeed time marched on. And soon it was time for the babe to eat. And time for me to sniff out the closest Starbucks to hunker down and edit. But before saying goodbye to C and her boy and yes, Elaine, I asked her if I could snap some pics of the nursery. And she obliged. So I stood there in the sanctuary of ocean blues clicking away as C changed a diaper. I looked around and concluded that C is genuinely talented and has an enviable aesthetic eye. I looked at the daybed covered in a rich Kelly Wearstler pattern and promptly decided that I wanted to curl up on it and take a nap. The point? This room is soothing and sultry and Bulldog is indeed one lucky lad.
I said goodbye and went on with my day. But the colors and the patterns and the soft light of that room stayed with me and I realized something I'd always implicitly known. Aesthetics matter. How we dress, the colors we wear, the wallpapers we use, the patterns we crave, the pictures we hang - it all matters. These say something about who we are and who we aren't. A peaceful home often makes for a peaceful mind. A chaotic and disjointed home often creates a fragmented psyche. I know that I am more placid and tranquil when my home is clean and uncluttered. I know that I often feel invincible after I have cleaned out my closet. These things matter.
In the upper left corner of the picture above, you will see a print hanging. Fittingly, it is a bulldog. And below is a shot of it up close. Presumably, that bulldog is there to evince strength and stature and the dogged pursuit of the good life. Oh, and to remind the little legacy who snoozes in the crib beneath it that one day he is expected to be a Yalie. To play hockey like his dad. To be summa like his mom. No pressure though, little guy.
