Friday, March 31, 2023
Collage Barrage
Tuesday, March 28, 2023
Tea Time Crime
It's been eleven years, but I finally found my way back to cozy mystery author Laura Childs. In 2012, I got crafty with a book from Childs' New Orleans-set scrapbooking series called Frill Kill. This time I moved on to a volume from her Charleston-based tea shop series entitled Haunted Hibiscus. Yet the more things change, the more they stay the same. Because in both books I was struck not by whodunit-related intrigue, but, surprise surprise, fanciful fashion:
"Racks of denim jackets, skirts, and slacks were jammed next to soft sea island cotton dresses and diaphanous beach cover-ups. A circular rack had long ball gowns and filmy silk wraps to match. Antique highboys spilled out offerings of jeweled belts, strappy sandals, hand-painted silk scarves, bangle bracelets, and beaded handbags." (223)
This scene takes place at a "denim and diamonds" event in an upscale boutique. Yet as much as it charmed me (and it charmed me a lot), I'd be remiss in not reporting that the piping hot cup of homicide that is Haunted Hibiscus heats up when an author is hanged in a haunted house. It's a grim incident to say the least, so Childs' imagery of beautiful clothes, as well as that of heroine Theodosia Browning's picture-perfect Indigo Tea Shop, go a long way in dispelling the gloom.
Much like, I suppose, a restorative cup of Earl Grey or Celestial Seasonings.
Sunday, March 26, 2023
This One's for You, Magenta and Rue
Thursday, March 23, 2023
A Passion for Fashion and Family
You know that I loved Jennifer Weiner's novels Big Summer and That Summer. So of course I was looking forward to the third installment in this not-quite-a-trilogy tribute to the most wonderful time of the year (sorry not sorry, Andy Williams). Even if some of the things that happen are more sun-streaked sad than beach read. This last book, The Summer Place, is no different, a bittersweet family drama about the road not taken. Each of Weiner's characters comes to a crossroads, forced to choose and then wonder what might have been. Their destinies are intertwined in peculiar yet believable ways, creating the kind of irresistible suspense that makes this novel such a page turner. Yet it's a passage about almost-concert-pianist-turned-music-teacher Sarah's love for -- what else? -- clothes that I find most captivating:
"Sarah's job at the music school had no dress code. If she'd wanted to, she could have worn jeans and blouses, or even T-shirts and sneakers to work. But Sarah loved clothes. She loved finding new boutiques and discovering new designers; she loved the feeling of buying the perfect azure-blue necklace to wear with a new navy-blue dress, and a pair of vintage leather riding boots to pull the look together. Even the clothes she didn't wear made her happy. She'd brush the sleeve of the pale-pink cashmere sweater she'd worn on her second date with Eli and feel, again, the first flush of infatuation; she'd flick past the black gown she'd worn for her last recital and feel a bittersweet pang. She loved the challenge of putting together an outfit, searching out each individual piece, shopping her closet, combining old and new. Getting dressed was its own kind of creativity, and it satisfied her in the same primal way she imagined gathering a perfect sheaf of wheat or an unblemished handful of berries might have delighted her hunting and gathering forebearers." (121)
Weiner gets this exactly right, elevating Sarah's -- and women's -- passion for fashion to an artform. It's as reverent as it is whimsical and sentimental. The setup (which really, I should've started with) is that Sarah's husband Eli, who drives her crazy during quarantine, goes on a decluttering kick that involves tossing some of her most prized possessions, the things that make her feel like her. Knowing this makes Sarah's wardrobe seem even more -- not to get all Narnia on you -- magical.
Speaking of which, it's the magic of being true to oneself that ties the tie-dyed ribbons of The Summer Place together. Even when, especially when, following one's heart leads to family conflicts. Weiner shows us that having it all isn't possible -- but that having something, even it if it's just one thing -- that we truly love always is.
Monday, March 20, 2023
Keys, Please: Last Call for St. Paddy
The Key to Kilkenny Necklace was a no-brainer. I will say that the keys were an afterthought, though. The four-leaf clovers came from a pair of earrings I got on clearance, and I needed some charms to fill in the middle. So these keys were it. I guess necessity really is the mother of invention.