I am not a trophy wife, but I have several trophies.

I fancy trophies, they represent great achievements.

I have had the honor of winning a rose bowl from the Garden Club for best rose in show. My name was engraved on it and I had it on display, proudly but humbly, on my mantle for one year... I had to give it back as I did not win best rose in show the following year!

This large vintage trophy was a gift from my delightful daughter JAL. It was  filled with white lilac on the occasion of Mother's Day!

I do not think that my mothering skills are worthy of a trophy, I'll take it as a compliment.

I was not athletic in my youth, save that darned grass hockey team that I played on in high school. Grass hockey was a rough and tumble sport and my shins were black and blue with bruises. I was short and and slow so I was an easy mark.  I was very afraid when we played against the private schools as they played for honour, to win and there was usually blood.

Look at that dirty window pane. No one would bestow an award for cleaning here...excuse me, Ms.H (she doesn't do windows) besides the mess is on the outside!

I am told this trophy appeared in the movie The Fog....I wouldn't know.  I do not watch horror films.
I love the racket details, so artistic and finely crafted.

A trophy wife is defined as -

A wife, usually young and attractive, regarded as a status symbol for the husband, usually older and affluent.


"Our romantic ideals are always grounded in economic realities, from the Victorian marriage model to the 1980s masters of the universe for whom a standard-issue trophy wife was a badge of honor."
Source: Deborah Siegel, PsychologyToday.com, "The New Trophy Wife", Jan/Feb 2004.


MOTU...trophy wife! Classifying and labelling are too general as they do not allow for individuality...I am sure there are exceptions to every rule. 
I'll leave that dangling thought as I need to ponder and ruminate more on the subject.....

French chic style...one page at a time, read, digest and adapt.

French Style

How to Think, Shop and Dress Like a French Woman

by Veronique Vienne

Fashion, style, do's and don'ts...what is French chic...what to wear....how to tie a scarf...and much more it's a crash course in French Dressing.

I found this book online and was curious, and it did not disappoint.

...more French books.....

Alas I am not French, nor will I ever be.

I am, after all, simply a hostess in a humble bungalow.

My lifestyle does not involve red carpet events. It revolves around work, dinner parties, lunches with the ladies, lectures, theatre, boating, domestics, gardening and Yoga.

My style is a mixture of regional dressing and fashion, dictated largely by climate, necessity, purpose and  what my heart and pocketbook can agree on.

I dabble in quality not quantity.

I purchase clothing in neutral colors black, white, taupe, cream, grey.

Accessories are what give my wardrobe a more "fashion foreward edge" and I do not "stand out in a crowd" nor do I desire the attention.

Scarves, belts, pearls, diamonds, silver bangles, and some faux brooches are the "workhorses" that I employ.

Check this out.

Secrets of Style French Chic

Parlez vous francais?

Today:

I am wearing grey Lululemon pants, a tee and my grey and white Lulu hoodie, I am off to the studio for an hour to practice Yoga.

My mantra; dress appropriately for the activity or event.

Shopping with my BFF, we've been getting into mischief like this since grade 3!

I got an early morning call from my girlfriend SMB. whom I have known since grade 3...She is my BFF and have shared all kinds of adventures. We are very close, symbiotic almost, love the same things, do not compete in any area, love and honor each other, have way too much fun together, doing anything and nothing. We are still growing up and getting older together,  hopefully, with a modicum of grace. We are not navel gazers,  do not take ourselves seriously, we laugh, we share and we DO.

I feel so incredibly blessed to have her in my life. We are like family, but more so.  Our kids hang out together, they are like cousins.
We CELEBRATE.....birthdays, dinners, lunches, we go boating together, we shop, we share books, we both live in arts and crafts homes, we can talk on the phone for hours, (until the batteries die and we need to hang up and recharge them!) we share similar opinions and have the same taste in clothing. It is actually quite funny... when we shop individually we frequently end up at the same event dressed in the identical piece of clothing. People smirk and think we shopped together...LOL! (We stopped phoning each other asking about our attire when we were out of high school, well, truthfully we still do it once in awhile!)
Here's one of the BEST BITS...our husbands really get along, and famously, they trade books, help each other on the boats, and go crabbing together. They are both self employed and so have much in common  as bosses and business owners.

Today we met at the Mall she was on a jean shopping mission and so was I, we ended up at the Gap and both got some dark wash denim, mine are curvy ankle length 1969 and she got 2 different pairs of 1969's and not the same styles as mine!
After the Gap, we cruised the mall and I found my black wool "dream coat." I have been looking for one like it for about 2 years!  And it was on SALE 50% off the regular price of $600....looks great, feels soft, will go with everything! European made by OLSEN.

We stopped for a bowl of hot soup before parting and getting on with our grocery shopping...which we do at the same small independent market in her neighbourhood, (a very Tony area) I drive 15 minutes to get there as I am closer to town. It is well worth the drive as this market has the best produce and organic meat and poultry. I work in this area so I usually drive by and shop on my way home, but today I was off work and I needed a chicken for dinner and a few fresh veggies.

My pictures do not do it justice but trust me ithe coat is sumptuous! Cashmere and wool, what a great combo.
I love it and with any luck and TLC it should last me years. The CPW will be pennies as it will be my fall and winter basic all occasion coat.
The collar is wide and asymetrical, it can stand up with a kind of "Elizabethan" feel, very soft looking and flattering for my curly hair and roundish face.

I am pinching myself as I write this...another "AH HA" moment.

Mother, illness, and cure all that ails you, chicken soup.

Yesterday I phoned my 82 year old mother who lives a block and a half away. We are friends and we have a lot in common. (Not just genes.) Physically, I am starting to look more and more like her!  (Not a bad thing.) She dresses and comports herself well.
Attire and appearance were important in our home. When I was young, I recall she would change out of her daytime dress and put on her Shalimar and dress for dinner! Sometimes we would be eating macaroni and cheese but there she would be dressed for my father's arrival, home from the office!
I could write for hours about my mother as she has had many challenges during the course of her lifetime. She has somehow managed to rise above these and come out on top with style.

But I digress, she has a cold. I could tell the minute that she answered the phone, that raspy sound in her voice gave it away. She, being who she is, shrugged it off and said no she was fine, just a little tickle and another cup of tea would take care of it. I was not to worry, don't come over...and no that chicken soup that I suggested was not needed but she could use a new novel. (We share the love of reading and I supply the books.)
As I hung up the phone I knew exactly what I was going to do...I pulled the chicken stock out of the freezer and started dicing celery and onions...(I buy organic free range chickens locally and I make stock after roasting them. The flavor is amazing!)
I sauteed the onions and celery, added the stock and simmered until it melted and was hot. I seasoned it with herbal salt and seaweed add some dry noodles and cooked it until the noodles were soft. Poured it into a jar and zipped over to mom's. I let myself in as I have a key and there she sat, elegantly wrapped in her pashmina, dressed in black pants and a black and white top, pearls, rings and bling...to the observer one would never know that she was ill. As she sipped her tea, (china teacup) I put the soup on to simmer.
She really didn't want the fuss, but was grateful that I had bothered. I didn't stay long, as she would need to rest her voice and maybe snooze in her chair.
I called later and she had enjoyed 2 bowls of soup and was into one of the books.
She mentions again how I spoil her and that I am too good to her, but I do not feel that way, it just feels right to give back to her some of what she has given me over the years.

Just breathe...the wisdom of Yoga.

I sit and breathe.

 I am sitting on a Yoga mat.

My clothes are loose and comfortable.

I breathe in and breathe out, it's that simple.

I do not try and control my breath or my thoughts, I simply sit and observe.

It is quiet, I can hear my heart beating.

I am visualizing the tension in my muscles relaxing.

My body responds and is calm.

My eyes are lightly closed, my mouth is soft.

My thoughts are floating, skimming, skipping, random.

Lying down, I stretch.

My breathing is deeper I feel sleepy, but aware.

I stay like this for many minutes.

When it feels complete I start to make small movements.

I roll onto my side and slowly sit up.

I open my eyes.

I am restored, I am calm, I am alive, I am in the moment.

I feel contentment and joy.

Pure Bliss.