Category — Advice & DIY

When I was a little girl, I thought there was nothing more elegant than a pair of French-braid pigtails. I was unbelievably jealous of any girl sporting a pair. By the age of 11, I’d had enough; it was time to take action. I was determined to teach myself how to French-braid my hair even if it killed me.

Needless to say, my first solo attempt did not go so well. I didn’t seem to have enough fingers, and felt my determination begin to slip. That was when my dad, bless his heart, came to my rescue. As I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, passing different strands of hair to my dad, I knew this was a first for both of us. Soon enough, our collective four hands were an awkward maze of fingers and hair, with my tresses sticking out in every direction (and anyone who knows me knows I have arguably the thickest head of hair on the face of the planet). The end of our adventure resulted in, while not perfection, a fully functional pair of French-braided pigtails. PHEW! Since that fateful day in front of the mirror, I have become a French-braid aficionado, perfecting the art of weaving my hair, but like so many things (changing a busted headlight, going to college, investing for the future, etc.), I could never have done it without the support and patience of my dad.

Behold my mad skills

I know it mustn’t have been a cakewalk for my dad. After all, it must have been much easier to connect with my brother—they had baseball, erector sets, and fishing trips to bond over. How’s a girl with no patience and a tutu to compete with fishing trips? It would have been so easy to let a difference of gender build a bridge between us, but thanks to many out-loud readings of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, dollhouse-building sessions, and impromptu Disney-song recitals, we found a way to bond that exists to this day.

For all those new dads out there, don’t be intimidated by the thought of having a girl. There is now a resource to introduce you to the mysterious world of little girls. Tea Parties for Dads: A Crash Course in Daughters for New Fathers cracks open the world of the little lady in your life, exposing the secret of what is so fascinating about all things pink, playing dress-up, mermaids, and yes, even hair styles. Tea Parties for Dads even includes helpful activity recommendations to make you the apple of your princess’s eye. Here is one of my favorites:

Making a strong connection with my father at a young age laid a foundation for a close relationship as an adult, and while I may no longer be a little girl, I know I am still his Punkin, and he is still my Papa Bear. Thank you for always making the effort, Dad.

Happy Father’s Day.

When it comes to fashion, I am a bit of a sissy. I do not lead the pack and revel in my bold style decisions. I do not wear plants on my head like Sarah Jessica Parker, hobo-chic body sacks like Mary Kate and Ashley, or full swan costumes like Bjork (though I admire any woman who can ruffle feathers). Rather, I adopt the safe, mainstream trends that, on a good day, earn me a sidewalk compliment, and, on a bad day, go generally unnoticed.

For this reason, I am thrilled to have a fashion book on our list this fall. Closet Confidential: Style Secrets Learned the Hard Way is the gift book of the season, penned by Daddy Likey blogger Winona Dimeo-Ediger. In her guide for the fashion wary, Winona shares fifty style lessons that are refreshingly accessible (for those of you who prefer your plants in a garden) and more addictive than peanut M&M’S. This is just a sampling of my favorites.

STYLE LESSON #2: The constitution guarantees freedom of speech, press, religion, petition, assembly, and to wear any style of jeans we want, so try something new–you might be pleasantly surprised.

Boot cut jeans (aka Jeanus versatilus) are the most frequently occurring articles my wardrobe, which I credit to both their extreme versatility and my unsubstantiated fear of jeans that aren’t boot cut. I realize this makes me–to use Winona’s words–a complete “style snore.” So, last month, I finally summoned some retail bravery and headed to T.J. Maxx with plans to avoid familiar denim territory. Two trips to the dressing room and three unflattering try-ons later, I emerged with my first pair of skinny jeans (aka Extreme intimidatus). Despite the blue sparkles on the back pockets that were probably intended for pre-teen fashionistas, they were exactly what I didn’t know I’d wanted all along.

STYLE LESSON #21: Fill your purse with the necessities. You get to define “necessities.”

Closet Confidential offers a chart that displays purses of all sizes: from the teeny “evening mini bag” to the colossal “Brontosaurus.” My current bag definitely falls more into the prehistoric category. On any given day, my “necessities” include:

–A bagged lunch that will inevitably be forgotten upon my arrival to work.
–Reading material. I like variety: a novel about genetically altered prep school kids and a copy of Closet Confidential is a good combination for the bus.
–Knock-off Chanel sunglasses (fondly referred to as “Ohnels” by my husband for the intersecting O’s that, in the right light, almost resemble Chanel’s intersecting C’s).
–A coin purse shaped like a cat’s head.
–96 pens.

While friends occasionally make fun of me for my excess baggage, Winona informs me that “purses large enough to hide a murder victim have come into style in a big way.” Which is great news for me and my cat head coin purse.

STYLE LESSON #27: If you live, have lived, or ever plan to live north of the Mason-Dixon Line, you might want to consider one of those giant quilted jackets that look like a queen-size down comforter with sleeves.

I attended college in Ann Arbor, Michigan, along with 30,000 other freezing undergrads. In my five-mile walk to class–what felt like five miles anyway since my eyelids were frozen open–I quickly learned that if I was going to survive, I would need a puffy coat, fashion be damned. Along with bulk quantities of Easy Mac, the Gap down comforter coat I bought that year was, without a doubt, the best purchase I made in college. (As evidence of my purchase, I have a stack of photos from 2001 displaying my inability to put my arms at my sides). Like umbrellas for Seattleites, industrial coats for Midwesterners are essential. Sometimes there really are more important things than looking cute on the way to class. Like circulation. And being able to blink when you want to.

Tell us: What are the most valuable style lessons you’ve learned?

Growing up on a small Vermont homestead, I was often put to work harvesting and preserving the seasonal bounty. We had a two-acre garden and miles of wild fruits and berries to sustain our family of six. I helped fill five-gallon buckets with blueberries and wheelbarrows with cucumbers, and took hikes through the woods with my dad to find hidden apple trees. After the harvest, I would help my mom fill row after row of mason jar with tomatoes, dilly beans, raspberry jam, apple butter, and cucumbers, just to name a few. Months later, with our home covered in snow, we’d fill our bellies with the fruits of our labor.

Though I no longer live in the country, I’m often reminded of that life when the plum trees of Seattle are overflowing with fruit. A few weeks ago, a friend and I biked to the house of a neighbor, who had more plums then he knew what to do with, and picked about twelve pounds worth. We then sat around chatting while we pitted the plums, cooked, and filled jars with sweet, velvety plum jam.

If you know where to look and what to pick, a country life can be found, even in a bustling metropolis.

Here’s a recipe for plum jelly from Canning & Preserving Your Own Harvest, a handy offshoot of The Encyclopedia of Country Living.

Plum Jelly

Most old neighborhoods seem to have at least one ancient plum tree, buzzing with yellow jackets and laden with fruit that goes unpicked. Don a protective long-sleeved shirt and brave the wasps for the makings of this beautiful jewel-toned jelly. Different varieties of plums will yield slightly different results as their natural pectin levels vary. Damson plums are very tart with acidic skins and are much higher in pectin than other plums, for example.

Season: Mid- to late summer
Yield: 6 cups
Store: Cool, dark pantry

4 pounds Italian prune plums, halved and pitted (at least
1/4 of which should be barely ripe)
2 cups water
3 to 4 cups sugar
3 to 5 tablespoons lemon juice
Place the plums and water in a saucepan and bring to a boil. Simmer until the fruit is very soft, 15 to 20 minutes.

Transfer the fruit to a dampened jelly bag or cheesecloth-lined colander suspended over a bowl. Drain for several hours to fully extract the juices. The yield will be about 4 cups. Do not press on the fruit, squeeze the bag, or try to hurry the process in any way—if you do, you will cloud what should be a rosy-golden, crystal-clear juice.

Measure the strained juice into a preserving pan and add 1 cup of sugar for every cup of plum juice; taste, adding lemon juice to make the fruit pleasantly tart.

Heat the mixture over medium-high heat to bring it rapidly to a boil, stirring constantly until the sugar dissolves. Cook the jam until it reaches 220°F on a kitchen thermometer. Remove from heat.

Carefully ladle the hot jelly into hot, sterilized half-pint jars, allowing 1/4 inch headspace. Use a water-bath canning technique and process for 10 minutes.