Nostalgia

*Pictured: My youngest sister Jacqui Gold portraying Alice from 'Alice in Wonderland.' Wearing the Pink Lady Brooch. Photo Credit: Jen Gold. You can find her on Facebook: Jen Gold Photography.

The boss man forwarded me a chain letter today. Usually when I receive such a 'gift' in my inbox, I make my vehement detest known: "Go get a wife or something!" At 60 years old, thrice engaged but never married, and with an ex-girlfriend list that puts many eternal bachelors' to shame, the chances of this are slim to none. Still, I remain hopeful.
Today's chain letter was different, though. It didn't annoy me. In fact, it made me shed a little tear. The subject line read: "nostalgia" and the body of the email contained pictures associated with memories of someone's childhood in the 40's and 50's. It looked so peaceful and uncomplicated; so happy and carefree. I found myself wandering back in time to my own childhood, which I recall being quite similar to the images from the 50's.

The 80's and 90's were a great time to be a kid. Without the internet clogging up our lives and destroying our creativity, my generation was able to enjoy full use of our imaginations. Sure, we had Nintendo and computer games, but it was so much different. I mean, Oregon Trail? Talk about simple one-dimensional graphics. But man, it was the coolest game in 2nd grade! In my house, we were not allowed to play video games. Only educational computer games and even those were limited to a certain amount of time per day. TV was always considered a privilege, not a right. Most of the time, my sisters and I played in the neighborhood with our friends. We rode bikes, played dress up, scraped our knees, and decorated (read: ruined) our clothes with grass stains. My parents encouraged reading over all other activities. My sisters and I read voraciously, and enjoyed every moment of it. Most nights, we fell asleep with books on our faces. I played roller hockey for hours every day with the boys on our street-- I was a bit of a tomboy in those days, and they accepted me as one of them. I suppose I’ve always been an "Honorary (Something)."

We made popsicles from juice, homemade ice cream, and built forts in our backyard. I played Barbies with friends or my sisters until I was 12.

In short, we made do with every resource made available to us, and as a result, we experienced something I fear kids’ today miss out on...the beauty of human interaction and building of good communication skills.
I see the connection to this simple time slipping away from my generation and it makes me a little sad. We are so consumed by the digital age that something as simple as verbal communication has fallen by the waste-side. It occurred to me just the other day that I had gone nearly the whole day without interacting with a single human being with the exception of text, email and Social Media. I didn't actually open my mouth to speak until late afternoon. This reality blew my mind.

I love talking. I could talk and talk and talk and never shut up ever if it wasn't socially weird and annoying. I can be a bit compulsive about it. My mind is in constant motion, and I fear, if I didn't let all the words out, I might internally combust. This obsessive need for discourse does not fare well in an age when it is common for thoughts to be expressed in 160 characters or less.
Ok, so I was the girl in English class who repeatedly had her paper returned with "please condense. I asked for 5 pages, not a novel." It was hard for me to only write 5 pages back then, so how the hell am I supposed to cut back to 5 words now?!

Yes, the modern age gives me much anxiety. I would prefer a world where people say what is on their mind rather than invent an acronym for it; where families talk at the dinner table; where people are about action, not about words summed up in 160 characters or less.

This is what I remember from childhood. This is my version of utopia. This is nostalgia.

So, I am forced to accept the world as it is today. It’s fine. Really, it’s cool. We’ve gone to great lengths to create a more simplified life for ourselves, and, like most people, I enjoy the perks of the Pandora’s Box that is the internet and the instant gratification of reaching anyone anywhere anytime and using a myriad of technological platforms. It’s pretty damn lovely. But I still prefer talking to a representative over an automated phone service.

Changing Leaves

With Fall in full force and Thanksgiving only a week away, I felt it only appropriate to dedicate this week's entry to my absolute favorite thing ever: giving thanks. I know, I know, puhleeease, right?! But I'm serious! "Thank You" is my favorite word..er, 2 words. "Thank you" is such an over-used part of my vocabulary, I have been known to say it at the most inopportune times (when distracted). Case in point--the other day as I got off the elevator on my floor in my apartment building I said "thank you" to a neighbor as the doors opened. It immediately occurred to me how absurd it was for me to be thanking him for this mechanical function-- as if he had telepathically willed the doors open or something. Embarrassed, I uttered the second most-used word from my internal dictionary: "sorry," followed by, "I don't know why I just said that?!" As the doors started to close again, I tapped them and said, "Thank you elevator for opening and closing." Sometimes they don't open and people get stuck, so I wasn't too far off, but the neighbor just looked at me puzzled. I don't blame him. Nut job much?

In lieu of a lengthy "things I am thankful for" list this year-- because seriously, I write one every year and the self indulgent Miss America-esque "I am thankful for the sun and the rain and the apple seed and all the life lessons" crap is bordering on hackneyed pastiche-- I am serving up a giveaway in the form of a custom-made, handcrafted bracelet for 2 lucky winners. The Bracelets will include Onyx beads, gold-plated spacers and wood beads in the color choice of the winners. These bracelets are priced at $30 a piece or $120 for a set of 5 (this is how I like to wear them. Makes your wrist a theatrical attraction), so this is a HUGE deal. Oh yeah, and a free Brooch will be included, too. Holy cow! I couldn't be more thankful for all the support and love I have received since starting the Brooch Brat business, especially now with the bracelet addition. So as a sign of my gratitude, I am pouring it like gravy onto you...ummm?...yeah, I'm just gonna go with that...

All you have to do to enter this awesome contest is somehow, someway, through whatever means you feel appropriate (though written form is probably best), tell me your fave jewelry/bracelet brand. That's it! I have decided to extend the contest to Monday, so you have ALL WEEKEND to think about it. But don't over think it! Hey overachievers-- you know who you are. This is really easy. Just throw a name out there. Whatever comes to mind first. What happens next is really neato...I will draw 2 names at random on Monday and VOILA! 2 winners will be crowned, or, have their wrists adorned with sparkly jewels, rather.

Ladies and gents, start. your. engines...and have a very Happy Gobble Gobble time with your family, friends or whoever you will be Gobble Gobblin' with a week from today :)

Under Your Skin

*Pictured "Under Your Skin" love bead bracelets. Containing onyx and wood beads with gold plated bead spacers. Email for price!

There are the ones we love and the ones who get under our skin. The deeper they get, the harder they are to let go of.
I saw the movie "Like Crazy" last night, which touches on this very subject. Actually, "touch" is a bit of an understatement. *Spoiler Alert* The film literally 'gets under your skin' as you become deeply absorbed in this young, doomed couple who are sorting out the complexities of a long distance relationship while embarking on their respective careers. Scenes of them in social settings-- she in London, he in LA-- depict them as distracted, not fully present in their surroundings. He finds himself in a new relationship with a hot blonde who is ridiculously in love with him, and you almost get the sense that he has moved on...but...as soon as the Brit texts him, he is right back with her emotionally. Over the course of a few years they battle with immigration (because she violated her student visa after graduating college) and the emotional turmoil of not being able to be with the one you love. At the end of the film, they are finally able to be with each other in the same place, but the ending is ambiguous. There are flash backs to when the couple first met-- the newness of young love; the excitement and purity of it-- and the brief moments of happiness when they were reunited again and again. It is clear by the end of the film that they are not the same. Their relationship is not the same.
I left the theater with many questions: Do they stay together? Was that itchy, yearning, under-your-skin crazy love they felt for each other heightened simply by the fact that they couldn't be together, which made them more desirable? Were the long periods of separation followed by short spurts of togetherness enough to build a lasting relationship? Most of what they were building in their young professional lives, they had built apart from each other.
What I walked away with was this feeling of something bittersweet brewed up from memories of young love. In those new and wonderful moments, nothing else seems to exist or matter. There is just the two of you and you are going to be together forever...and then life happens. It's just there, in your face and suddenly, you realize that you are not in control like you thought you were.
My sequel story to "Like Crazy," which I would title, "Like, Really Crazy," or something along those lines, would see the couple staying together. Not in some dramatic Hollywood "yeah right" sort of way. They have an uphill battle for sure, but they will fight for their relationship together and make it work. The logical, non-pretend-director me isn't so convinced, though. In my own experiences, it never quite works out the way you want it to. I suppose someday it will, but it will be much different. More grown-up and real. Less fervent and impulsive. Now the dates I go on are experienced in a very practical manner, taking the usual points into consideration: compatibility, career, long term goals, could we build a future together? Is he stable and reliable?... In our late twenties it is difficult to not approach things this way. We are all a bit more guarded, sometimes emotionally scarred-- we've all experienced heartache. So it makes perfect sense that at a certain point you just get practical. All the gusto and crazy-under-your-skin feelings were expended on the first ones. The youthful ones that came with no strings attached, no expectations, or deadlines or ultimatums. No biological clock screaming "it's time girl! Your eggs are dying!"
It would be nice if things could work out with that one who gets under your skin. I am both envious and happy for the people who find this sort of love and hold on to it for dear life. Or maybe they separate for awhile and get reunited-- I love those stories the best. I am steadfast in my belief that you end up right where you are are supposed to be when you let fate do it's thing. If it's meant to be, it will be. If it's not, let it be. We've all tried to force situations that aren't right, if not physically, in our own minds. We justify behaviors, words...dissecting them until they are shredded into indecipherable pieces. And for what? Piece of mind? We never achieve it that way.
The day I realized that a great many questions we have, especially pertaining to love, will never be answered, was the day I let go of things I realized I couldn't control and regained control over myself. Of course, I want that crazy, under-your-skin love again. I look forward to the day that my solo home becomes a couple home and hopefully a family home. I will welcome all of this when it feels right. When the stars are aligned. When fate is in control.

Bon Voyage

During the 10 1/2 hour flight back to Los Angeles from London I watched quite a few movies and TV shows made available through awesome new technology. Or maybe it's not new, but the individual TV screens, movies and TV shows that played on demand were totally new and wonderful to me. Perusing the list of recent Blockbuster titles, I settled on "Midnight in Paris." So what I had seen it twice already. What was once more? Turns out the third time was the charm and so appropriate given my just ended vacation to Paris and London.
Since about 18 years old, I've had a real fascination with Parisian culture. First with the Fin de siècle period when Impressionist art was at it's height. This expanded to an interest in Expat culture circa the 1920's. I had read a few of Hemingway's masterpieces during high school and loved them. Even though I didn't fully understand the subject matter, his style of writing, which he referred to as the iceberg theory-- basically, facts over supporting structure and symbolism-- I fell in love with. This was a big change, coming from the flowery, adjective-filled Jane Austen and Romantic period writings I had devoured during Junior High. Hemingway is raw. And then of course, T.S. Elliott's "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock," Oscar Wilde's "The Importance of Being Earnest" and later "The Picture of Dorian Gray," (although, he was part of the Fin de siècle period) and the fantastic F. Scott Fitzgerald's "Flappers and Philosophers" and "The Great Gatsby." During a brief stint with film degree interests my freshman year of college, I learned all about Dali and Surrealism- ate that ish UP. From there, my interests expanded to French and Italian films, in particular, Fellini and Godard, and then a fascination with 60's culture in general but mostly dedicated to French French French. Looking back at my interests over the years, they border on predictable and cliche, but I'm not embarrassed at all by them. They make absolute sense, and there was a definite natural evolution to them.

I won't say that traveling alone was the sole culprit in the end of a girlish fling with Expat art culture, but it was a huge contributor. My first visit to Paris at 23 was magical for lack of a better adjective. Sitting at Hemingway's favorite cafe sipping on a kir, riding a bike to Versailles for a grand tour of it's massive and beautiful grounds. Experiencing the Metro like a true Parisian. I had boy-short hair and wanted to look and feel French. But I was with my family who happens to be very good at acclimating to new surroundings, we are physically fit unlike the stereotypical fat American tourists with fanny packs and big cameras around their necks, and my Step mom speaks French very well, so we fit right in. I was beyond enamored with Paris and went home feeling greatly enlightened and changed by the experience.
I thought I'd feel the same magic the second time around, but something about visiting a foreign country alone changes your perspective of it. You get a more raw, real insight into how people are and what life is actually like. I do not speak French as well as my step mom, so Parisians were quite rude and not at all helpful to me. To walk through the streets dragging a huge suitcase trying to find the apartment you will be a temporary resident in, and not have a single person offer to help or give any useful directional guidance is very frustrating. I arrived at the apartment dripping with sweat, tears welling in my eyes. I had been in Paris all of 2 hours and was ready to leave. My love was soon restored, though, once I got settled in and actually started to explore the streets and beautiful architecture. I visited museums, cafes, book stores, flea market (which is unlike anything you will ever experience in the states-- incredible and rare REALLY old stuff), cemeteries, farmer's market...everything. After 2 days I had learned the Metro system and had a fairly decent sense of direction. I felt safe and secure wherever I was. After 5 days of ham and cheese and French French French everywhere, however-- I mean EVERYTHING comes with ham and cheese, even food you wouldn't expect to-- I was ready to get out of there. So I hopped on a train and headed to London to spend a couple of days before it was back to the States.
London is awesome. I can't believe I hadn't visited it sooner. Not only does everyone speak ENGLISH, but they are all ridiculously charming and helpful. The tube system is entirely fool proof-- we're talking arrows and helpful hints everywhere-- and every single person you ask for directions will stop and help you. I won't go so far as to call myself a Londonphile, but I will say that the UK challenged France to a dual and won. Pip pip Cheerio!

There is a really great scene in "Midnight in Paris" when Owen Wilson and Marion Cotillard's characters go back in time to Paris during the Fin de siècle era. Owen Wilson's character, Gil, has what he calls a "minor" epiphany that in every generation, there are those who glorify a previous era. People never appreciate the beauty of their own time. I would go even further to say, their home base. We do this because life can be difficult and banal at times. Escapism takes on a different form for each of us, but we all do it, usually coming to our own epiphanies that our life ain't half bad.

Perception is the key ingredient. It's amazing how quickly our perceptions can change. I arrived in Paris craving the same magic I experienced the first time I visited her, but left feeling somewhat disenchanted. That's not to say I don't still find the city beautiful and enthralling-- I do. But my youthful fascination served a purpose at a particular time, and it is impossible to recapture that. Much like how Disneyland is totally different experience for adults than it is for children. It's a bit sad, when a certain place loses it's "wow" factor, but I think it's just part of growing up. We develop new interests and find excitement in things that probably seemed stupid and boring when we were young.

After a week of travelling I was ready to be home. Every inch of me and my life resides in LA, but especially my heart. In France, locals were shocked at my independence: "you can eat and drink alone?" One girl asked me, "I could never do that. French don't eat alone." I had never thought of drinking a glass of wine with a sandwich and good book in hand as something strange.

Where and how we are raised, the things that inspire us, the people who love us and we love in return...these belong somewhere. We all belong somewhere. I belong in California. I suppose you could say that a week abroad found me in a very special, happy place. Happy with where I am, who I am, and no longer desiring of a faraway residence. Sometimes we need to go away for a little while to get centered again and fully realize and appreciate how blessed we are. I feel incredibly blessed and happy to be home...but thanks to a slight mishap with a flat iron in London (internation plug socket explosion anyone?), I am sporting a boy-short style again after frying a rather sizeable and noticeable section of my hair. I thought about keeping the look with Halloween right around the corner, but decided against it after much deliberation. It seems with all the feedback on Facebook, I made the right choice.

Au Revoir!

Fall Fabulous

My fall collection is finally ready to launch in just one week! And I couldn't be more excited about it. Two of my gorgeous and talented sisters, Jen and Jacqui, came out to LA with a couple of willing and also super talented friends for a fun-filled day of Alice-in-Wonderland-themed photo and video shenanigans. Having an accomplished photographer and nearly 6 ft tall sisters in the family certainly comes in handy for such occasions.
The photos will be available shortly (Jen took a LOT), but in the meantime, please enjoy the Brooch Brat promo for fall-- our interpretation of "Alice in Wonderland," or as we jokingly referred to as "hipster Alice in Wonderland." Enjoy!

We're all mad here...

The inspiration behind my fall Alice in Wonderland brooch line, was quite simply the concept of growing up. The story really is a great metaphor for life and self discovery-- trying to understand the world around you and where and how you fit into it. So many elements are involved, which makes the transition into "adulthood" such a fascinating one. From physical metamorphosis,to learning and adapting to change, understanding the struggles and advantages of language/communication, and the realization that mortality is an inescapable part of life-- life is one big confusing puzzle, and we go through it trying to put all the pieces together. Throughout the process we learn, grow, and adapt.
To elaborate on these themes and how they will play into my fall line and accompanying multi-media endeavors:
Metamorphosis: In my late teens/early twenties I had a mentor-- a talent manager-- who gave me some of the best life advice. One day she was reading lines from a script with me before an audition and I just started crying-- like uncontrollably bawling. She asked me what was wrong and I said in between sobs, "I looked at myself in the mirror today and suddenly saw my life, in fast-forward. I imagined myself at 25, 30, 40, 50...and it freaked me out. The thought of changing..." She looked at me square in the eyes and said, "You'll find comfort someday in knowing that change is the only thing you can count on." How true those words were. Change is inevitable, but what's so impressive is how well we adapt to it.

Learning the Rules: You can learn a lot just from reading a book, but in order for the words to have true meaning to you, there has to be some point of reference, and that comes from experience. With each new experience we become smarter, stronger, and more adaptable to change. Love, heartache, friendships, jobs...they are constant but evolving parts of life.

Language/Communication: Humans thrive on communication, yet, in our day-to-do exchanges it is often wrought with inconsistency and slipperiness. After enough experience with relationships-- both romantic and platonic, business exchanges and, quite simply, life, I have come to the following conclusion: Language is the most valuable source of joy and adaptability, but it can also be a source of great confusion. Every single one of us can justify even the most absurd ideas or behavior, and the arguments we make to support them are absolutely valid to us in that moment. At the root of finding compromise/common ground is reasoning, more so with ourselves than the other person-- discerning the logical solution even in the most illogical situations.

Death: Death is the final step in the process of "growth." Once we come to terms with the inevitably of it--that there is no escaping it-- it makes life seem more real and important somehow. A gift not to be taken for granted.

I will be using lots of black, red and white in my fall line, as well as hearts, linking chains, and timeless charms-- all signifying the stages of growth in life. It has been quite fun and therapeutic developing the concepts, and I can't wait to be able to show the finished products! Very proud of this endeavor. Here's my favorite so far...

Laud de da da

Impervious charm
Impeccable wit
But timing’s such
A piece of shit
The words preferred
Can never flow
Against the current
With a heart in tow
So you watch them
Fester, botch, unfurl
And fuck shit up
Like an off-tune skirl
Then you close your eyes
Make them count to ten
Hoping all the while
You’ll feel better when
The fog is lifted
Time has healed
The broken parts
That love concealed
All the cracks and doubts
And guilt and blame
Two hearts that felt
But not the same
Lose the will to laud
Patch and sew
Healthy patterns
With stuff you know
And some fine day
That timing bitch
Will find at last
The perfect stitch
And the whole of you
And the sum of “we”
Will be the whole of love
And the end of “me”