‘Tis the season for indulgence of varying kinds. Libations, savory treats, cashmere, boots, sweet somethings, fur, lamé and family tidings.
I like the bustle of 5th Avenue, the inspiration of the Bergdorf windows, the caramelized sugar smell of Nuts For Nuts, and the chill in the air that always gets me in the mood for Santa.
What I hate are sales. I hate picked over clothing. I hate thinking I need something just because it’s 30% off. I hate the temptation, my weak resolve, and the even playing field of “one for them and one for me”.
Around this time I actually feel like I am bleeding money and cringe at the ping of my iPhone, hoping it’s not another alert from the bank letting me know of insufficient funds. I really don’t need anything. But it sure is nice to receive every now and then.
Mostly, though, I enjoy the holidays. I enjoy giving gifts. I love to figure out the most perfect gift for that most excellent someone. I love actually spending time with friends and fellow moms whom we only seem to have time to say a fleeting hello to during brief drop offs and pick ups. I’ve been having drinks, lunches and dinners with those that I usually only talk with through email. I enjoy slowing down.
Next week will be my final holiday lunch. My bi-annual Ladies Who Lunch (LWL) with Paula in San Francisco. We will be toasting her 50th and she will be wearing her new Junya Watanabe coat. She will shine and look fantastic. And she should. She’s 50 and she’s awesome and she can kick any twenty year old’s ass.
Thanks to my husband, I won’t be looking too bad either. I will be wearing my Hanukkah present from him. A beautiful 60%-off Prabal Garung wool-and-leather coat of exceptional design. Someone’s gotta shop the sales and Thank God he did.
In homage to Paula, “Happy Fucking Hanukkah to Me.”