Author Archives: ellen.lubin.sherman
Green-light Someone’s Dreams
One of my greatest pleasures is to watch my friends take a risk. Whatever it is –starting a business, writing a book, embarking on a new career — I want to be on their team. I love ambition and drive and there’s nothing better than seeing it take place.
Mrs. Deligdish’s Yellow Dress
My mother and her posse have this thing when it comes to sartorial questions. They can “never remember” where something was purchased. Oh they’ll tell you where to store your mink or the name of the new podiatrist who took over the practice of the dead podiatrist but clothing? I’ve seen my mother do this shtick so she’s no angel.
There’s Another Thing I Have To Tell You
Are you familiar with falafel? They’re fried chick pea balls typically *stuffed* into pita. Garnished with chopped tomatoes and cucumbers and then *swathed* with hummus and tahina. It’s tasty but it’s a mess to eat.
Always Shop Alone
As the stores are now selling spring merchandise (now is the time to find the perfect white tee-shirt) here are some thoughts on shopping. You can disagree, of course, but you will be wrong. These are time-tested rules.
On Friday I hiked to the Brooklyn Museum to see “Frida Kahlo: Appearances Can Be Deceiving.” I was thrilled to get up close to her clothing and accessories (she was a fabulous painter, too.) The exhibit was glorious. Not a black legging and Canadian Goose jacket to be found.
It’s almost Valentine’s Day so of course I remember that first Valentine’s Day with my boyfriend. It was so long ago that I actually cared if I got a gift. He must have had something in mind because he went to Victoria’s Secret and purchased a ridiculous bra and underwear set. By ridiculous I mean skimpy. …
It is not easy to be unfailingly charming. Or fun to be with. The discipline of being delightful at all times may seem impossible. It’s not.
R.I.P. Zsa Zsa
Just a few weeks after winning the Ugliest Dog Contest, Zsa Zsa, an English Bulldog, died in her sleep on July 10th, according to an article/obituary in The New York Times.
I’m Into Laundry
Laundry is how I meditate. I go to the laundry room and start sorting. Ironing is also bliss.