A hiatus from thou...

Hi all. It seems I've been taking more breaks than not these days. I have a little news that I'm not quite ready to share yet, but also have been beeeezeee. You know how they say that if you really, truly love your job, that it doesn't seem like work at all? It's true, but when that's the case, it also makes it incredibly hard to turn your job off. Ever.

If my husband had his druthers, he would place this very laptop under the back wheels of his car and release the emergency break on our little hill. So you can see why blogging has had to take a bit of a repreive.

Overall, the past few weeks have had their ups and downs: some events wildly exceeded expectations, some not and it was truly humbling. I think the lesson overall is that the retail event market has significantly changed in the past few years. Unless you have an amazingly unique selling proposition--eg., something unique and truly special that benefits the living hell out of your attendees, you are pretty much doomed. And even if you have that, a little snafu like timing can hurt you just as badly. But if you really think it through, vet your ideas out, do a little market research, and put that all together, you can really develop something great.

So.

Here's one of the 80 things I'm working on now for which I hope you'll mark your calendars!

Wednesday, November 14: R. Nichols Event at Apres Peau. This has been YEARS in the making. Nick is a bit of a recluse--he is charming and wonderful and funny and dapper and ridiculously talented and so veryvery shy. But he's finally coming! He came up a few years ago to support me for an event I was doing, but this is the first one all about him. The last one I can remember was when Mireille Guiliano (yes, the CEO of Veuve) honored him with a fete for doing the cover of French Women Don't Get Fat.

Anyway, he has created a Washington, DC themed line exclusively for Apres Peau. And they are SO FABULOUS. You'll see one of the basic original drafts in the November issue of DC Magazine, but the finals are just incredible. And not only will he be doing notecards, but he is also creating a limited edition serious of prints (signed and numbered, series of 25) and it looks like he may even sell the originals, which he RARELY does.

If you'd like to receive an invite, email me and I'll put you on the invite list!

Event #5: Be That Mom!

My graphic skills: not so the very bestest here...

Event #4: Badgley Mischka!

Event #3: Belle Fleur NY!

Ask anyone in the know that lives in New York, "who is your favorite florist?" I've done that and 5 for 5 and the answer was an instantaneous, "Belle Fleur New York," usually punctuated with an additional, "I luuuuuurrrrvvve them." Dreamy sighs sometimes follow.

Belle Fleur NY clients, who include everyone from Salma to Uma to Trudy & Sting to every Manhattan hostess worth knowing, all love the fact that her bouquets are lush and gorgeous and smell terrific--her bouquets usually include a dozen or more types of flowers.

She applied the same basic concept to her new line of candles--and they are nothing short of amazing. I've heard that Jennifer Aniston orders the White Tea Orchid by the case. I'm a fan of the Orange Blossom Pomegranate, myself.

Anyway, I'm such a fan that I convinced my friend and owner of Belle Fleur NY, Meredith Waga Perez, to come down here to launch her candles exclusively at Apres Peau this Wednesday at a cocktail fete from 7-9.

Come see for yourself what the croc-boxed craze is all about. Rsvp to events@aprespeau.com.

Seize The Day (or the couch at the end of it).

Today, well, it was bloody hot. And like the DSS only much smaller (though with no less clutter), my car: no a.c.

Nine: planned to crank out one of two proposals due by tomorrow. Ended up saddled down with 800 emails.

Eleven: Followup interview questions with client while driving, then repeating said quotes to reporter, reading notes while driving that were written while driving. Lucky I wasn't reading it whilst wrapped around a tree.

Noon: reporter lunch at Brasserie Beck. company: wonderful. Food: well, have I told you about my literal fear of mayonaisse? I have one. A big one. And that place is like Willy Wonka and the Mayo Factory. Everything on the entire menu has it. EVERYTHING with a side of gelatinous nastiness. Shivering just thinking about it. Carefully navigated the menu and survived.

One: Race home to check emails that I couldn't open on Blackberry, grab clothes for tonight, head back downtown.

Three: Off to the magic that is Cyrille at one80. My chemically straightened hair is about half grown out, and I'm not getting it done again for a while, which leaves blowouts, which I'm incapable of doing. I've probably had 150 blowouts in my life, and his are by far the best I've ever had.

Four and a half: Next, off to MenzFit to help with setup. Thinking it was at 15th and K, I left my car at one80 (13th & K) and clomped down in my 5' heels. Wrong. It was 13th & H. Crap. Clompclompclomp back down the street.

Six and a half: Party starts, great crowd, money raised, all good.

Seven and a half: run over to Milano for Knock Out Abuse Kickoff. Bloody hot. It is going to be a great event, though. South Beach theme, Debra Lee as chair. She had on a fabulous snakeskin belt.

Nine: Head back over to MenzFit to help with cleanup. I'm just better as the worker bee than attendee. Snag a killer goodie bag, a literal armful of LaMer from my dear friend who works for them, and help with the post-event auction chaos.

Ten: Home. Couch. Zone.

Eleven: Remember I now have 1-1/4 proposals still left to write (just about finished one whilst in the care of Cyrille).

Eleven and a half: procrastinate. See post above.

DVFabulous

Ah, home from the longest of days. I love going to the city though, even if my shoulder STILL feels like it's going to fall off of my body from lugging around my laptop all day.

So after the first meeting (and a great salad at Astor Place at the St. Regis), I was browsing bags at Bergdorf's, talking about how the genius design skills of Lambertson Truex has never been more apparent than in this season with an incredibly educated salesman, when my cellphone rang.

"I'M STARVING! GET TO THE SEVENTH FLOOR AND ORDER ME THE LOBSTER." Click.

My sister had officially arrived.

Following orders, as I always do when it comes to my elder sibling, I headed up the elevator, then sat at our windowside table, listening to the clinking of glass, the purring of customers and husbands, and thinking about the percentage of women in New York vs. DC that are trying to look WAY younger than they should (seemed to me to be about 30%), when I looked up and simultaneously the lobster pasta and my sister in a great DVF headed directly to the table.

I slowly sipped my butternut squash soup as she grilled me about the meeting, gave me pointers, and we caught up about our mom (traveling in Croatia at the moment) and our respective lives.

Pasta done, we bolted back down to Floor One, past the Goyards, and out the door to our waiting car.

Next: Meatpacking District for a meeting at DVF.

I'm pretty sure that I've never been to a cooler place. All white and black and fuschia, with original and incredibly beautiful artworks, all of Diane, covering the walls. The receptionist, positioned behind a wrought iron framed room of sorts that was 1920's bank teller and incredibly uber-modern all at the same time, phoned our contact as we waited on a comfy upholstered bench. We heard the clickclickclicking of heels down the white staircase, were greeted and escorted up the stairs.

"I stayed at Diane's Paris apartment a few years ago," is always a good opener, and in this case, it happened to be true. Right after my sister's divorce, she flew over and stayed with close friends of Diane, who was out of town at the time. Her highlight was borrowing a cowboy hat of Diane's and heading out to Buddha Bar in said hat that was so cool that she left her pajamas on as her ensemble and got away with it.

Meeting: went well, as to be expected, cards and handshakes exchanged, and then past the newest collection (literally from the runway, hanging up RIGHT. THERE.), and out to our waiting car.

My sister felt bad for being a little gruff upon her arrival, so next we went to Trina Turk where she got me the most fabulous dress (which will be worn at two events tomorrow, along with hair done by the amazingly talented Parisian find, Cyrille of one80). The dress won't make me as fabulous as my sister, but then again, it was never really a competition.

NYC

Greetings from 10022-SHOE! It is HUGE. ISO the perfect pair of black heels, though no luck thus far. Givenchy peephole patents were close, but I think I've finally learned the lesson that patent=pain.

Next, off to a meeting at one of the world's largest jewelers. My sister (/boss) was supposed to meet me here for it, but her flight is superbly delayed. So it's me versus a literal army of New York PR powerhouses. I figure if I don't weep it will be a victory.

Wish me luck!