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Okay, not death. That’s a little extreme. How about a penthouse condo instead?

I’ve been thinking about the idea of luxury living for a little while. The thoughts began flooding in after a friend of mine was talking about actually building a beautiful, humongous and wildly expensive new home. She already has a gorgeous home that’s paid for and very few people to occupy it, and I got to wondering –how much house does one need? It’s an intensly personal decision, of course, and to be frankly honest, if one has the means to do it, then they should if they desire it.

I began thinking about the home I live in. I find it to be my dream home, and not nearly as expensive as most. It’s large, only 10 years old and very pretty. It’s not overly extravagant and right now, it needs to have new flooring and a few other replacements. Having 5 kids plus all their friends in addition to 4 cats, a beagle and a dalmatian really takes its toll on a home and in my case it shows. My place is no model home.

I’m not writing this to put down people who want big beautiful homes. The reason why I’m writing this is to ponder the subject of luxury. What constitutes luxury? What do you find to be a luxury? What is your favorite luxury item in your home and why? Do you prefer a simple, cottage home? Is not tying up all your money on a piece of real estate considered luxury living? Having money for something else besides the mortgage every month can really be considered luxury-At least I think so.

In my life I’ve come to love and find it hard to live without the following domestic luxuries: central air conditioning, my dishwasher, the microwave, the ice maker built in the door of my fridge (which has been broken for 4 years now, but hey, it was nice while it lasted.), and my most prized luxury, right smack at the top of Emily’s Luxury List–The Garage Door Opener. Yes, you read it right. I love having a garage door that opens by the press of a button from inside my car. I can drive right into the garage, put the door down and leave the world behind. I can’t begin to tell you how cool I think that is. If it’s raining, or snowing, I can drive in and not suffer the elements, because there is a handy door that leads from my garage right into my laundry room. I think this is the ultimate luxury-More than granite counter tops, more than a sunken in tub in my master bath. Yes, in my world the garage door opener is king.

At this point in my life, the last thing I want is a bigger house. I’m already thinking about downsizing my living space. How long will we hold on to this big house after the kids grow up? I’m already having silly fantasy’s about living with my husband in a trendy condo right in the middle of a happening part of town, walking distance to all the places I love and need to get to. I definately don’t want to bite off more than I can chew financially. In fact, I say sell the big abode and plop down cash for a groovy condo where you don’t have to cut grass, you can take the elevator up to your unit and if you want, plant a container garden on your veranda.

The simple life is what I’m craving. Right now, I’m in the process of zinging all the crap in my house, trying to make my space more breathable. By removing the stuff I don’t need, I will be enabling myself to have a cleaner, more tidy home. That spells ”stress free” for me. The lawn alone is so much to deal with. Just this year, I paid a college landscaping company over $1000 dollars for grass cutting and lawn maintenance from last spring through October. I can hear you all saying, “But Emily, you have 2 teenage boys! Why are you paying a landscaping company to cut your grass when you can pay your kids?” Well, this blond has already thought of that, and employed my son’s to do the job. For about 3 years, I paid them $25 a week to cut the grass. You know what? They did a crappy job. They wouldn’t weed whack or sweep the cut grass off the sidewalks. The exterior didn’t look much better after they were finished because they didn’t do a thorough job. So, I decided “Screw it.” For and extra $10 over what I paid my boys, I can have these college kids come and do a bang up job that makes me feel proud to be a home owner. They weed whack, blow the stray grass off, weed and cut the lawn on the diagonal. I just had a fleeting thought. Maybe these college boys are my favorite luxury.

What I’m going for as I begin the second half of my life is to pare down and simplify. I want a lovely place to live, but I also want to have money to enjoy life. I don’t want to be a slave to a mortgage. Having a big sprawling house just isn’t something I desire at this point in my life. If I decide at 55 to take a trip to Paris, I don’t want to sacrifice the opportunity because I have to use the money I would have otherwise used for the trip to go towards a huge mortgage. I just want to go to Paris, thank you.

I also have this thing where I like good quality home goods, but I can’t afford the drop dead expensive house and the expensive Pottery Barn stuff to go in it. So, how about a not so expensive house with some nicer amenities instead? I imagine how lovely it would be to have a simple, sweet cottage, updated with wood floors, slipcovered sofas and cool, smooth granite counter tops. It seems like the best of both worlds to me.

Don’t let me influence you. This is simply the Emily way of thinking. My husband would even disagree-He doesn’t want to live in a condo. He loves living in a big house, and you know what? He probably doesn’t even want to go to Paris.

Until it’s time to make a dwelling change I need to do the necessary repairs on this wonderful home I live in now. Franz Manor needs some updating, and worst of all, I need to get my garage door opener fixed. OMG! It’s broken!

Yesterday morning shortly after awaking, I got a voicemail on my cell phone from a slightly panicked friend who called to check on me. She was calling to see if I was at that Lane Bryant store, shopping as I usually do on Saturday mornings. Saturdays are the days when I can sneek out to hit my favorite shop to find some great clearance items and cash in my monthly coupon. Since the store is only a mile from my house, it’s a quick fix for a habitual shopper. Instead, I slept in because the night before, my hubby kept cajoling me to stay up and watch “just one more” episode of LOST and I ended up turning in around 4am.

My husband may very well have saved my life. I woke up to learn the store that I practically live in was involved in a ‘robbery gone bad” and 5 women were killed, after they were herded into the back room by a black man weilding a gun. Can you imagine the horror of suddenly being in a situation like that, your life changing on a dime before you and wondering if you will live to see tomorrow? It gives me a hole in the pit of my stomach just thinking about it.

One of the women killed yesterday morning was a saleslady I have come to love named Rhoda McFarland. In fact, yesterday, from the minute I found out about the killings, I had Rhoda on my mind-praying and hoping that maybe she had the day off. Please God, don’t let it be Rhoda. The police didn’t release the identities of the slain women until today, so I was on pins and needles wishing and hoping and praying Rhoda was at home watching this all unfold on her TV, just like I was.

When I would shop at Lane Bryant, and if she was working she’d always greet me with a, ”Hello soul sistah!”(I revealed to her jokingly that after a DNA test, I found out I have 7% black in me, so from then on she affectionately called me soul sister.) She would ask me how everything was going and she and I would just joke around and laugh. She was so nice, I was tempted to ask her if she would ever want to do lunch some time–but I never did. Rhoda had the most infectious laugh…it made what she was laughing about even funnier. Her smile was a mile wide and she was such a beautiful woman. I looked forward to seeing her every time I came in to the store. Oh, how I will miss her. What hits me in the heart is thinking how she was probably treated. I’m sure shear terror ripped through her before that bullet ended her life. I am in shock. I just can’t stomach the thought that Rhoda isn’t on this earth any more. I am so sad.

I wish I would have known the last time I saw her that it would be for the last time. I would have for sure given her a hug goodbye. But life isn’t that fair or considerate of us. Life just does what it wants. All day yesterday I vowed that if Rhoda was off, and if I see her again, I was going to give her the biggest hug and tell her how happy she makes me and how grateful I am that she’s alive. Today, I learned, I will never get that chance. This teaches me something about life. Something I always knew, but never really applied to real life because I never had someone I care about or like die suddenly like that. But what it teaches me is if there are people in your life who make your heart happy, irregardless if they are your child’s teacher or the employee at your favorite store, or your handy mechanic, make sure you tell them what they mean to you. Make sure you let them know you appreciate their kindness and hug them. You never know, someday they may be taken from you and suddenly there are no more chances. Poof, they are gone-plucked out of your life no matter if you like it or not. Tell the people you love how much they mean to you and say hello to your neighbors. Some day it may be the last time you have the chance.

Rhoda, Soul Sister, I will be looking for you in heaven. Keep a spot open for me. Did I ever tell you how happy you made me? Girl, there’s no one around like you. Sorry I didn’t get to give you that hug goodbye or go for lunch with you. Just so you know how much you were liked, and what a bright spot you were.

Rest in peace, girlfriend.

(Thank you LARRY, for the forced all nighter. Because of you, I am here today to write this.)

My son Dave

My Curves Coach…how’d you like to be accountable to her?

I love sky blue denim. For fun I slid some Shabby Chic fabric underneath for a sneak peek at Springs new fashion trend.

May I introduce….Lydia Coatsworth, my vintage dressform

My very untidy sewing studio.

Some of you may remember back in October when I wrote about purchasing an old vintage dress form in Ohio during my travels there. While in the checkout line at the antique store, a man came up to me who was very excited it seemed to see me struggling to hold this magnificent find. He asked me what I was going to name her. Name ‘her’? A dress form? It seemed to me that I did remember reading somewhere that it is ‘essential’ to name one’s dress form. Okay, I won’t argue with that. I guess it somehow feminizes the form, sort of like mens’ inclinations to name their boats or cars. I began to ponder a vintage sounding name for about a minute and instantly, ”Lydia” popped in my head. It was as if the ghost of this dressform somehow magically infused my brain with the name-almost like ‘she’ chose the name herself. I went one step further and gave her a surname. Coatsworth seemed English enough and quite appropriate for a dressform. So, Lydia Coatsworth it is, and she seems to be completly delighted with her new moniker. As a matter of fact, I believe she looks like a Lydia, don’t you?

About 2 or 3 years ago I purchased a big lot of vintage laces, knickers and various small pieces antique clothing from a woman named Faith. She sold it to me for a song, and I barely looked through the box when it first arrived. Instead, I retired it to a shelf in my studio where it has remained untouched until yesterday.

It was then I decided it was time to clean up and reorganize my studio to make my space usable again. I am designing dolls for the magazine with a Feb 1st deadline, so this is my attempt at preparing for inspiration. I can’t possibly get creative if I can’t manage a square foot of space in which to work on. I’m getting my behind in gear. I’ve been enduring a lot of stress and heartburn from just looking at this nightmarish place. As I proceeded to clean, I began sorting through the boxes on my shelves. When I got to Faith’s box, a jolt of excitement hit me as I realized I had forgotten all about the treasures that lie within. I opened it again for the first time, amazed at what I had overlooked. Right on top lay a breathtakingly beautiful lace frock that looked like it could have been worn by a woman sailing the Titanic. As I held it up, it unfurled. It’s discolored laces fell into a pool in my lap. I noticed it was a tiny size and it occured to me it was something Lydia could wear-and with great style, no less! I gently dressed her form, turning her as I smoothed the laces out all around her. She let out tiny creaks of approval as she waltzed around on her stand. The dress fits beautifully, seemingly made for a woman named Lydia.

Ms. Coatsworth’s dress is made from antique laces and is gorgeously feminine. I love this style of dress. I am a bit of a girly-girl, loving my femininity, and dressing the part when I can. You can imagine my delight when I received a spring clothing catalog which showed ‘shabby chic’ types of styles, crisp whites and pastels with tiny florals and bits of lace! Curious, I Googled 2008 spring fashion trends, and much to my surprise and delight I found a site that used three words to describe this season’s styles: flirty (yes!), Feminine (Yes, YES!) and Flowing (YEEEESSS!) Be still my heart, feminine clothing is back in style!

I’m looking forward to spring shopping! It looks like light, billowy fabrics are in, topped with sweet, floral prints. I imagine crispy, clean cottons will be available, too, both in bright whites and subtle pastels. I’m already thinking about blush pinks, butter yellows and sagey greens paired with fresh, sky blue jeans (curvey gals all over thank you fashion gods for the 2% stretch Lycra in our jeans!). I can’t wait to slip a daisy in my hair and hit the sunshine.