Dressing

Reeds jaren is er één ruimte die men bij bijna elk (ver)bouwproject probeert in te passen, namelijk de dressing of inloopkast. Makkelijk te begrijpen, wanneer u bedenkt dat dressingkasten niet alleen overzicht en gebruiksvriendelijkheid bieden, maar ook toelaten om de beschikbare ruimte, hoe klein ook, optimaal te benutten. Inderdaad, u leest het goed, hoe klein ook. Zelfs in kleinere ruimtes kan men, met het juiste maatwerk, perfect een fraaie en praktische dressing op maat maken. Voor alle maatwerk doet Gebroeders Janssen steevast beroep op Neves, de partner met wie wij hiervoor een exclusieve samenwerking hebben. Wat het concept, materiaal, de uiteindelijke opbouw en het beschikbare budget betreft, wordt vanzelfsprekend samen met u naar de beste oplossing gezocht.



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2016 Hardwood Floor Trends: What to Expect this Year

Although your official job title is “contractor”, you probably find yourself consulted by clients who want you to help them find the best floors and design ideas for their homes. We’re only a […]

The post 2016 Hardwood Floor Trends: What to Expect this Year appeared first on City Floor Supply Blog.

habit shift: cloth napkins.

I grew up in a house where we used cloth napkins for most meals, so I'll admit off the bat that embracing cloth napkins wasn't really a shift for me. Still, I know it's an eco-friendlier habit that not everyone readily embraces. 

I think some of the reluctance to the permanent cloth napkin switch comes from perception. Cloth napkins feel fancy, like something that should only come out when there's company or a special occasion. And they seem like a lot of work: all that washing and folding and for the neatniks among us—gasp— ironing. 

On one hand, the perceptions are true: cloth napkins can feel fancy and they do require cleaning. But neither of those things makes them complicated to use. 

Here are a few tips for shifting your napkin habit if you haven't already:

1. Go cold turkey. Some shifts take time to adapt to, but the cloth napkin trip is best done all at once, no looking back. Put back the package of napkins back on the shelf, leave the store, dig out the stack of cloth napkins you might be hoarding for a special occasion and put them to work on pizza night instead.
   
   
2. Choose what you like. If you do not have a stack of grandmotherly napkins to dig into, you should buy a set that you like. (Obviously.) But: many people will tell you that you need to buy dark colored napkins to avoid staining. I will not give this same warning. Dark napkins end up getting just as worn as white ones, just differently. We're talking about cloth that gets soiled and cleaned regularly: this is not cast iron, it will not last forever. So, choose a set to love, and try not to get too precious about it. (More on my napkin color theory in this post.)
   
   
3. Consider linen. If you're looking for longevity, I've found that the linen napkins we've had have held up the best over time. The only caveat about linen: they'll be rumply unless you iron them. If you don't dig the rumpled look, linen napkins are probably not the best choice for you—go for thick cotton instead.
   
   
4. Reuse. For most adults, a cloth napkin can be used many times in a row without being laundered. The swipe of a few crumbs isn't enough to warrant a wash. To keep things organized, growing up my family used napkin rings with our names printed on them to keep track of whose napkin was whose. We haven't needed to institute a similar practice in our small family yet, but napkin rings, different colored napkins for each family member, or even little cloth pouches to keep only lightly soiled napkins are all possibilities.
   
   
5. Just throw them in the hamper. Coming from someone who does not have a washing machine or dryer in my own home—let alone in the building where I live—I hope you'll believe me when I say that you can toss a soiled napkin into your laundry hamper without thinking much more about it. We keep a pretty robust napkin collection (somewhere around 16 at last count). We don't go through them all every week, but life with a toddler is a little messy, so the backup has proved helpful. I don't do a separate napkin load and I very rarely pretreat napkin stains, unless Faye's been particularly enthusiastic about spaghetti. (Note: In case you're hesitant, in my humble opinion, cloth napkins were made for kids. It is so much less annoying to use the same cloth napkin throughout a meal than to crumple twenty flimsy paper napkins in the same space of time. (Even when you have a child who's unswayed in her belief that oatmeal is a finger food.))

For the curious:

Our linen napkins (a wedding gift).
Our favorite tumblers.
Faye's wooden bowl.
Faye's tiny flatware was a gift from her grammy (unsure of the source).
Our plates and cutlery were from Brook Farm General Store (also wedding gifts, no longer for sale).
Everything else is vintage!

PS. More about my daily habits over on Remodelista.

Habit Shift is a new series. I’m hoping the series will offer quick tips, concrete takeaways, and a whole lotta can-do spirit for focusing on ways to shift personal habits in an effort to be little bit more environmentally friendly, a little more healthy, and a little more happy.  Good for us, good for our planet.

growing a minimalist wardrobe: silk camisoles.

If you read enough about so-called capsule wardrobes, you'll quickly come across mention of the indispensability of the silk camisole (adorable shorthand: cami). Today's post will demonstrate that among other things, I do not read enough about capsule wardrobes. (Taking the long way around, etc.)

Let me back up:

Growing up, my mom made me and my sisters wear cotton camisoles underneath our turtlenecks in the wintertime (And tights under our jeans on the coldest days, but that's a subject to discuss on another day.) I found wearing the camisoles (and tights) to be tantamount to torture. I hated them. They felt bunchy and, as I was prone to saying, "uncunchable."

Cut to adulthood and can I empathize with my younger self. I'm not a terrific layer-er. Despite the fact that I'm frequently cold, I can be reluctant to putting on more layers. But instead of hating the humble camisole, I've come to really love them. A plain cotton camisole is usually thin enough that it won't bunch, and with enough stretch added to the cotton, it stays neatly put. Sleevelessness cuts down on the all around discomfort, and layered underneath a button-up blouse or sweater, camisoles do, indeed, provide an extra layer of warmth enough to make the winter tenable when you're not willing to go full-on long underwear. My mom was on to something.

But this winter, I've tried something new that's making me rethink my camisole approach altogether: the silk camisole.

It started by accident. One night, I had worn these pajamas to bed and I woke up in the morning with an intense need for a doughnut. (Unrelated to wearing the pajamas, as far as I can tell.) After pleading with James to walk around the corner and scoop up a coconut-covered little honey for me, it became clear that if I wanted a pre-8 am sugar rush, I'd have to get out of bed and get it myself. 

And so, I did what any responsible adult desperate for a doughnut would do, and quickly threw on presentable-in-public clothes over my pajamas. From the moment I pulled a sweatshirt over my head, I was hooked. Underneath the sweatshirt, the silk tank top felt even better than it had on its own. It was silky and smooth and not the slightest bit uncunchable! Layering suddenly felt good.I realize this might not be newsworthy for the more sartorially evolved readers—all you capsule wardrobe mavens out there. But it took me experiencing a silk base layer for myself to understand the hoopla. 

A silk camisole sounds so fancy. And what a versatile little thing to wear without anything on top of it at all! But for me, the real secret is the comfort found in layering: there's nary a bunch to be found when wearing a silk camisole under a sweater. Everything slips and slides around in a warm little cocoon that's the very opposite of suffocating and confining. 

I'm most hopeful that the silk will hold up fairly well. I've found that most of my cotton camisoles get stretched out and sad-looking after a year or two. With a little love and care, I'm thinking silk will stand up a little better. Yes? No? Maybe? Who's already a silk camisole convert out there?

In case you're in the market: Here's a little list of other (non-pajama) silky options should you want in on the silky secret.

+ Brook There has a beautiful black silk chemise that looks like a very lovely start for a silk camisole collection. (Their discount code is applicable site-wide through February 2, ICYMI.) (Made in the USA.)

+ Cuyana has two nice options. The silk camisole is a little bit refined with all those straps—and could definitely pull double-duty as a special top all by its lonesome. The scoop silk tank is more casual, and slightly longer. (Made in the USA.)

+ Eileen Fisher scoop neck silk tanks follow the same classic lines as some of the others in this list; theirs comes with a bluesign certification for chemical, water, and energy usage.

+ Everlane has a number of silky things worth looking at, but the long length of their simple silk tanks look especially promising for winter layering. (Responsibly made in China.)

Other things:

+ If care for silk is a hangup, I'm happy to report I've been hand-washing my silk tank on the weekly since mid-December and it's good as new.

+ If the price tag on silk tanks feels (understandably) steep, a second-hand search from a source like ThredUp might yield some nice results (as well as raiding your grandmother's closet). 

fancy underthings with brook there.

This post is sponsored by Brook There, a sustainable clothing and lingerie company selling garments that are designed, cut, and sewn in the United States.

Sometimes you need fancy underthings; impending holidays loosely related to love notwithstanding.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: there's something about a matching set of bra and underwear that just do a body good. Or, perhaps more to the point, they do a mind good. And at this time of year, fancy underthings are at least twice as magical as they are in the warmer months. At the time of writing, I'm sitting freezing near to death in a cafe. I have yet to take off my hat or scarf. My ears are starting to ache from the particular tyranny of wearing a hat all day long. I'm wearing wool sweatpants and thick socks tucked into my boots. I've got on a camisole and a long-sleeved t-shirt. Everything's covered up by a blanket of a sweater. As my mom would say: It's quite a look. And I admit I'd feel frumpy if not for the fact that I'm wearing the matching little duo you see above underneath it all. 

I'm the first to admit that I'm a romantic, but my love affair with matching underwear has everything to do with me and nothing to do with making myself appealing to a Valentine or anyone else (happy accident is all that is). A matching set of underwear is a secret, you see. It's a private little thing to grin about while ordering a slice of pizza or standing in line at the post office. I might look like a disheveled worker bee hunkered in this freezing cafe, but actually I'm a hot little mama with matching silk undies. See?

Loving on myself and personal enthusiasm for matching lingerie aside, it's clear that not all of these fancy things are created equal. The offerings in the Maine-based Brook There shop make a particularly lovely choice if you're in the market for a little something new. Brook There lingerie is designed by owner Brook DeLorme, and cut, and sewn in the United States—from organic, US-milled cotton when possible. They take their dedication to sustainable fashion seriously. You can read more about the Brook There ethics and fabric choices, right here. And here's a little more about three of their most popular styles right this minute:The Lilac and Black Lace Organic Cotton Lingerie Set is sexy without being cheesy; sweet but not saccharine. The organic cotton fabric made with with 6% spandex is soft as can be and stretchy enough to be comfortable, but not baggy. The bra straps are thick and substantial enough to feel practical without looking only utilitarian. Next up, the Tub Dye Blue Organic Cotton Triangle Set Lingerie acts as a bright spot in the dreary winter. (Talk about a little secret underneath all those layers.)Brook hand-dyes the organic cotton fabric in her studio in Maine before sending it to Massachusetts to be cut and sewn. The double-layer cups provide extra support.If you'll allow me to play favorites for a minute, the Black Alchemy Organic Lingerie Set would be my choice. The old-fashioned, full-coverage cut of the bottoms and the little bits of silk strike just the right old-timey starlet note for me. No surprise, I love the understated neutrals.And just for you: Brook There is offering Reading My Tea Leaves readers a whopping 30% off with the code VALENTINE30RMTL. The code expires on February 2, 2016. You might not be able to tuck away your woolens just yet, but damned if you can't still feel sexy.

snow day.

 Just a little snow report for a Monday morning. We had exactly the snowy, time-stopping kind of weekend I'd wished for: Grilled cheese sandwiches and chocolate chip cookies with neighbors; a shoelace rope, a little extra packing tape and a sheepie thrown inside her box to make a sled for Faye; a snowy ride to get croissants. Starting Monday feeling equal parts wistful and refreshed: it's January after all.

Q&A with Kim Wahlgren, Editor of Hardwood Floors Magazine

  We recently had the pleasure of interviewing Kim Wahlgren, editor of Hardwood Floors Magazine, about trends in the hardwood floor industry, how the internet is changing the way contractors do business, and more. Check […]

The post Q&A with Kim Wahlgren, Editor of Hardwood Floors Magazine appeared first on City Floor Supply Blog.

make-believe: reading nook.

At the risk of too much navel-gazing, it's been a really lovely week of finding that my book has made its way into so many of your homes. I've said this already, but more than a week later, I'm no less touched to see your posts crop up on Instagram, or Facebook, or in emails sent directly to me. It's such an incredible honor to see Simple Matters in your spaces. It's funny, too, to see how you've been cozying up to read. Some of you have been nuzzled next to a favorite human, or pooch, or other furry thing! Other times, there's been a mug of warm something or other nearby. There have been green things, and candles and many too many beautiful wooden tables to count.

Thank you for sharing.

Here's a make-believe collage to celebrate my very favorite hashtag. Neutral-colored reading nook, not required of course, but here's my stab at dreaming up a few favorite things to recreate your collective nooks:

+ A copy of Simple Matters for reading.

+ A candle for smelling good. 

+ A blanket for snuggling with.

+ A mug for drinking something warm.

+ A lamp for light to read by.

+ A plant for greening things up a bit.

+ A sweatshirt for being cozy in.

+ A little cheese plate for snacking.

PS. To all of my beloved international readers, never you fear: books are coming! In this week's episode of Things I Didn't Know Before Writing a Book,  I realized that Simple Matters wasn't actually released on the 12th the world over. Who knew? But it is coming! Thanks so much for being patient!

habit shift: favorite documentaries.

Habit Shift is a new series that I have in the works. I'm hoping the series will offer quick tips, concrete takeaways, and a whole lotta can-do spirit for focusing on ways to shift personal habits in an effort to be little bit more environmentally friendly, a little more healthy, and a little more happy.  Good for us, good for our planet. I hope you like it.

With the Sundance Film Festival officially kicking off tomorrow, I thought it was the perfect time to talk about the list of documentaries that have made an impact on my habits over the past ten or so years. Fair warning: These aren't exactly feel-good movies. And, if I'm being really frank, some of them border on being a little annoying, or a little depressing, or, well, both! Yay!?

But they're all films that actually made something click and inspired me to make a change. To be clear: They weren't films that made me feel hand-wringy and anxious, but they spurred me to change my mind, kick a bad habit, or reassess my choices. Most of them are more than a few years old at this point, but I think they can still hold their own.

In case you're finding yourself searching for something to occupy these long, dark nights. Here are a few of my favorite habit-shifting documentary recommendations, in no particular order.

+ King Corn: This one's a real oldie at this point, but when my brother-in-law and our friend Ian made this way back in 2007, it changed the whole way I thought about the food industry and what I was putting in my mouth (and not just the corn)! Even though we're all quite a bit older now, it still offers good food for thought. (Currently available to rent on Amazon and iTunes)

+ Supersize Me: It's probably not terribly surprising that I've never been a huge fast food junkie, but before I watched this movie, I definitely still partook in the occasional road-trip fast food. Afterward, even that paper packet of fries was harder to stomach. (Currently available to rent on Amazon, Netflix, and iTunes.)

+ Bag It: More than just encouraging me to stop using plastic bags—this film had me reassess my dependency on single-use plastics in general. Prepare to invest in a reusable water bottle and a cloth grocery bag after watching (and maybe to feel less thrilled about your recycling efforts). (Currently available to rent on Amazon, iTunes, and Netflix.)

+ The End of the Line: This film took me on a deep dive (pun, of course, intended) into the world of fish and fisheries that I'd never even considered before I watched it. I'm not a regular fish eater, but when I am, I make sure that the fish I'm eating has been sustainably sourced, all thanks to this film. (Currently available to rent on Amazon and iTunes.)

+ Tapped: If you still haven't kicked your plastic water bottle habit, this might just be what finally makes you do it. Since watching this, I'm pretty sure I can't count the number of disposable plastic water bottles I've used on one one hand. (Currently available to rent on Amazon and iTunes.)

+ Toxic Hot Seat: This documentary tackles the chemical industry. In particular, it traces the Chicago Tribune reporting on the chemical flame retardant industry. Fascinating and scary stuff that definitely made me rethink my approach to upholstered furniture. (Available to rent on iTunes)

What about you guys? Anything you've watched that made you change your mind about something, or change an old habit?

baby proof: gracious gifts.

We've passed the halfway point of January. The last of the holiday decorations have likely been put away, any lingering pine needles have been swept up. If you're like me, you've moved on to the deep-cleaning, forced-bulbs-and-branches, and candles-everywhere portion of the month.

But one thing that's been very apparent over the past few weeks is that there remains for some of you a lingering sense of ill-ease about the overabundance of the holidays. For parents of young children, the concerns seems to be especially acute. There's wondering about how to incorporate so much abundance into your space without feeling overwhelmed, questions about how to gently let friends and family know what kind of experiences (and things) you most wish for your children to have, nerves about hurting feelings.

I'll begin by stating the obvious, which is that I am only a year-and-a-half into this parenting gig. I can't anticipate precisely what will unfold in my house over the next ten or twelve years. When we came home from the holidays this year, we came with an array of new toys and goodies for Faye that required some rejiggering of our space to accommodate. This is always part of the process when something new comes into our place: The making room; the settling in, the reassessing.

Earlier in the fall, we'd done a bit of this rejiggering already. Rattles and teethers and infant toys that Faye's largely outgrown, we weeded through. The ones that we most cherished were zipped into a small case in the linen closet. They live in the same small, hopeful space where I've also nestled the maternity clothes that I bought for myself while pregnant with Faye. Other things—duplicates and redundancies and less-cherished items—we passed along to the neighborhood thrift store. 

Gifts are, of course, things that are supposed to be enjoyed. It'd be a rare thing for someone to give a gift with the sole intent of causing a problem. And yet, it's clear that many parents view gifts as a challenge; something to be dealt with. My approach is to be as gracious and thankful as we can be, without also feeling that our spaces and our belongings are out of our immediate control. Here are a few tactics that can help maintain a sense of control, keep a focus on graciousness and gratefulness, and, hopefully, offer a few ideas for alternatives to an ever-growing pile of toys.Send A Clear Message:

I think there are both gentle and clear ways to let loved ones know that you might be hoping to embrace less rather than more when it comes to gifts for your kids. For me, the opportunities for spreading this message began from almost the moment I announced my pregnancy. In the same way that I opted out of a traditional wedding shower, I opted out of a traditional baby shower. I didn't want a party in my honor based around giving material goods and I explained that I wanted to keep things very simple for the baby-to-be. The supplies that I gathered before Faye came along were very few and carefully considered. As I write about in my book, I did, at my mom's urging, put together a small registry of items from a variety of small shops that I thought I—and a baby—would love. It included just a few things but for friends and family who were very eager to give a gift, the list provided a jumping-off point and an indication of the kinds of things we were hoping to bring into our home. Co-workers pooled resources to purchase us our stroller. Aunts and cousins pooled resources to buy us a baby carrier. Many friends gave gifts not on the registry: books and music and rattles and precious onesies. I loved all of them. In expressing from the start an interest in doing things differently, I avoided feeling too overwhelmed by gifts in those early months.

As kids get older, I think a similar kind of messaging can be effective. Many people I know have requested no gifts at birthday parties and gatherings. (Many people, myself included, have ignored the bidding, but the point is to try.) If asking for no gifts seems so staunch as to be surely ignored, try, perhaps, an alternative suggestion:

+ If you'd like to bring a gift, please consider making a contribution to our art supply box.
+ If you'd like to bring a gift, please bring a non-perishable food item that we can donate to our local soup kitchen.
+ If you'd like to bring a gift, please consider bringing a children's book to donate to our local homeless shelter.

Offer Guidance:

In my experience, friends and family who really want to give a gift will often ask for a bit of guidance. Anything Faye needs? Anything you've been thinking of getting? Here's your chance! Take a few moments to respond thoughtfully. In my family, my mom is a champion gift giver. She really loves the hunt. She loves finding the perfect little thing and the other two things that go along with it. I don't deny her of the thrill of gift giving, but I do offer some ideas for things that might be most useful. (And, admittedly, I outsource to her some of the hunting that I find personally less satisfying. We all have our strong suits; use someone else's gift-giving enthusiasm to your advantage!)

Shuffle What You Display:

Once the gifting is finished, we've always had the best luck with leaving out only a selection of toys at a time. Personal anecdotes aside, research shows that children respond better to a simple collection of toys than a vast one. A child need not have a shelf stacked full-to-brimming with options. If you are given more than you feel can be used or enjoyed or displayed without feeling crowded, opt to save some of it for later instead. An occasional rotation out of old and in of new is exciting for little guys. Whether it's brand-new, or borrowed, or just re-emerged from a little sojourn in the closet, novelty wins every time. So tuck an extra-beautiful set of blocks under the bed and only take them out to build a gigantic castle. If you notice that a certain toy isn't getting played with, put it on the top shelf of a closet to present again at a different time. We don't have room to stockpile a huge number of toys, but we've managed to find little places to tuck things away.

As children get older and more attached to their belongings (and more interested in creative control of their space) this same practice of curation might prove beneficial. Provide a space for them to display their cherished objects and encourage a periodic reassessment. I remember particular joy at having a tag sale as a child and getting to mark the prices on various stuffed animals and toys that my parents had gently encouraged my sisters and I to sell. 

Encourage Charity:

Faye's too young to fully grasp the concept, but I think there's something to be said for starting early to instill a sense of charity in children. Some of these ideas, I already listed above, but when, despite your best efforts, children receive more than they need or could use, why not encourage them to give the gift to someone else in need? Local religious institutions and community centers often accept gifts of this nature all year long, but you might also save a collection of things to give to a family in need at the holidays. Like the tag sale story from my childhood, it might be a useful moment to teach a child the value of a gift beyond their personal enjoyment of it.

Embrace Ephemera:

It's the play dough kick going on in our house that's speaking, but I think on the giving side of things, it's lovely to think about giving gifts to children that don't necessarily require a longterm place to store them. Or else, to give gifts that encourage an activity or experience beyond what needs to be kept on a shelf: tickets to a museum, membership to a public garden, swimming lessons, an art or music class, etc. Even the very loveliest handmade toys can become overwhelming in multiples and most will eventually be forgotten. But the gift of a special lunch out with an aunt, or a trip to a local aquarium with a grandparent, or a solo-drive with an uncle to spend the day at the beach? Those are all things that won't go forgotten. In fact, they might just be the very things that get remembered.

Accept Graciously:

It goes without saying that graciousness is really the only route to take when it comes to gifts. It's hard to change people's minds about what is good or useful or fun to have. Indeed, it's likely impossible. Pick your battles. Your family might not love your handmade sugar scrub either. But accept graciously, send a thank you note, use the gift if you can. If ultimately a gift is not right for your home or your family or your child, graciously give yourself the permission to let it go.

What about you guys? I'd love to hear what's worked for each of you!

PSV Eindhoven Stadion

Toen het PSV Eindhoven Stadion op zoek was naar een warme, stijlvolle vloer om de Skybox nog meer klasse te geven, boden wij natuurlijk graag onze expertise aan om deze wens te vervullen.

De vraag was duidelijk: een klassevolle houten vloer van 70 m2, die zwevend op vloerverwarming moest worden geplaatst. Het verlijmen van de vloer, zoals meestal wordt aangeraden bij gebruik van parket met vloerverwarming, was in dit geval geen optie, omdat de vloer moet kunnen worden verwijderd, wanneer de Skybox een nieuwe eigenaar zal krijgen.

Meer info at gebroedersjanssen.be

love the room you’re with.

A quick post to say thank you, thank you for the incredible support you guys have shown me always, and especially since Simple Matters was released on Tuesday. I'm so happy that you guys are enjoying the book. It is such an honor to see it in your homes, to see you quote from it, to know that its message is one that you're nodding along to, or sharing with friends. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

I also wanted you to know that I have a new post up on Cup of Jo, complete with new shots of the our recently rearranged apartment! If you've been wondering how exactly we've finagled two bedrooms out of one, it has the answer and a bunch of other tips about how to thrive in a small space (with a baby).

Finally, a little reminder to local folks that I'll be at BookCourt in Brooklyn tomorrow night (you can now even RSVP on Facebook!) Stop by for a cup of wine, a little reading, huge hugs, and good company. I'd be thrilled to see you there. xoxo.

5 Tips to Prevent Unnecessary Callbacks

What can you do to prevent unwarranted callbacks from customers? Rather than having your clients ask you to inspect something they think is strange and finding out that there was really no need […]

The post 5 Tips to Prevent Unnecessary Callbacks appeared first on City Floor Supply Blog.

make your own: playdough.

Last week, I was a having a distracted morning. Instead of doing my usual pre-work routine of reheating my cup of coffee while Faye and I built block towers, and made messes pouring water, and ate our weight in clementines, I was finding myself chomping at the bit to get to work on other things: deadlines to meet and emails to send and a blog post to finish, for heaven's sake.

I finally decided that I needed a project to focus on instead; something novel for me and for Faye and that would offer a bit of relief from the urge to answer emails while nodding absent-mindedly in the direction of wooden blocks.

Playdough.I realize that a post about making your own play dough might sound like an overly sugar-coated attempt at "doing it all." Screw it. Sometimes you have the opportunity to take five minutes to make your kid play dough. Sometimes you don't. 

For when you do have the chance, here's a super easy recipe. It took me literally five minutes to make. I dirtied one pot that I stuck directly into the dishwasher to clean. Faye had nearly as much fun adding a cupful of flour to the pot as she did playing with the finished product. I got personal satisfaction from presenting her with a new project that didn't require buying anything new, finding a permanent space to keep anything, or adding much of anything to the landfill. Ding, ding, ding!Since Cream of Tartar (a popular ingredient in most homemade playdough recipes) isn't a thing that I keep in my spice cabinet, I borrowed from recipes that use only things you're more likely to keep regularly on hand. I didn't add food coloring because that's another thing I don't keep around the house (but if you do, feel free!). The result is playdough that looks like real dough. Faye has not been tempted to eat it—but to be clear, I'm fairly certain that bright blue playdough would only entice her more. (Girl is still nibbling on her colored pencil tips.)

Five-Minute Playdough

1 cup of flour
1/4 cup of salt
1 cup of water
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
3 teaspoons lemon juice (or vinegar!)

Mix the ingredients together into a saucepan over low heat and stir until combined into a dough. (Note: I was convinced this wouldn't work half way through. It got kind of grainy and weird looking and I was sure I'd botched it. Thirty-seconds or so later, I was pleasantly surprised that it turned to dough. Moral of the story: Don't despair.)

We've been storing this batch of dough in a mason jar for the last week and it's made a daily appearance in the early morning hours. We've been using Faye's mini rolling pin (similar to this one), a few tiny cookie cutters, and her crinkle knife to make shapes. Bonus: I'm fully into the therapeutic benefits of rolling playdough balls for stress relief. So…not for kids only!

If any of you guys have kids, I'd love to know what kinds of things you've been up to lately!

simple matters, out on shelves.

I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do today. Reread my book? Sleep late and eat bon-bons and luxuriate in the fact that today is the day that you get to read it? Call up all of my friends and harangue them about whether their copy has arrived? Ask them to do a slow drive-by of the neighborhood bookstore and see if they can catch a glimpse of Simple Matters there?

Sounds like a plan if ever there was one.

Simple Matters is on my shelf. Maybe it's on yours too. Or hanging out on the shelves of a bookstore near you. Maybe it's mid-flight, wrapped up and bouncing around in the back of a truck or the belly of a plane, crossing the sea to land on your doorstep. Soon, soon. It's tremendous, really. The process of writing a book exists in an old-fashioned realm that's more or less entirely without instant gratification. But the release of the book? The hashtags and emails and photos snapped on phones? Well, that's some of the best kind of instant gratification there is. I'm so grateful for your enthusiasm. So tickled to have you reading. So relieved that the wait is over.If you have a copy in your hands already, I'd just about die of happiness to see it in your space. You can use the #simplemattersbook hashtag to share it on Instagram.Once you've dug in and if you enjoy what's on the page, it would be incredible to have you lend your voice in an Amazon review.And if you want to celebrate, I'll be doing a book reading on Friday at Book Court in Brooklyn, and another in my hometown—Madison, Connecticut—on Saturday afternoon. There will be wine and hugs. Details here.

And from the bottom of my fluttering heart, thank you.

January 10, 2016

"Look out my window, what do I see? A crack in the sky and a hand reaching down to me"

make your own: necklace organizer.

This past weekend, I detangled my necklaces for the last time. I thought you might like to know about it.

In shifting our bedroom to the other room a few weeks ago, I lost the little hook on the wall where I used to keep my easily tangled necklaces. (It's not lost exactly, it's just still hanging out in the bedroom.) Since then, my necklaces have been strung up and looking messy hanging from the corner of my dresser mirror.

This weekend, I took the lot of them off the mirror to do a little dusting and then promptly dropped them onto the ground. They just slipped out of my hand. How a pile of necklaces can go from tangle-free to world's-most-frustrating-puzzle in a split second is beyond me, but suffice to say the five necklaces turned into one gigantic knot and required twenty minutes of emergency surgery to untangle.

Tell me you've been there, too.

Well, no longer. I spent exactly two minutes making a solution for keeping necklaces tangle- and tarnish- free from here forward. The trick is so easy that it's almost not worth writing about. Maybe you already do this. Maybe your ten-year-old niece does this. But in case I'm not the last one to the party, and in case I can save you the pain and suffering of detangling another pile of necklaces, here you go:

Safety Pin Necklace Organizer

Here's what you need:

+ 1 swatch of fabric cut into a rectangle. (It should be wide enough to accommodate your necklaces, spaced about an inch-and-a-half apart, and long enough for the longest necklace to rest on the fabric. I used a length of linen I had saved. It wasn't quite as long as my longest necklace. I'm not worried about it.)

+ Safety pins enough for all of the necklaces. If you have a great many necklaces, you'll likely want to split them up onto different swatches. I used the kind of safety pin that has a round bottom and that's often used to hang clothing tags. The rounded bottom makes them ideal for stringing necklaces without the chain getting caught on the pin.

+ Cotton pouch.

Here's what to do:

Pin your necklaces to the swatch of fabric. Aaaaand you're done!

Well, nearly. I pinned mine in a straight line across the top of a piece of linen fabric and strung one necklace per pin. Then I rolled the fabric around each necklace (like in the photo above!) until I got a slim tube of necklaces. I folded the tube in half and slipped it into a little cotton pouch. Et voila. Now you're done.

If you want to get fancy, you can hem your fabric. You could sew on ribbons for securing your necklaces more tightly on the bottoms. You could add any manner of other gadgets that would take this from being the world's simplest DIY to the world's second simplest DIY. I, clearly, went extremely low-tech.  Here it is, my finished necklace storage, all tucked into a pouch that came with this sweet gift from Becca. Done and done.

What about you? Any five-minute fixes you've stumbled into lately?

Happy Birthday Bowie

We've been together an awfully long time...

minimalist wardrobe resolutions for a new year.

I’ve said before: I’m not a clothes horse, or a fashionista, or fabulously stylish. I want to feel good in my clothes, absolutely. I want to feel beautiful and comfortable every day. (Small request, no?) I also want getting dressed to be a simple affair. I want to wake up in the morning and open my drawer or my closet and be able to select, in a matter of minutes, something to wear for the day. There’s no such thing as effortless but I do enjoy keeping a wardrobe that requires less effort. This is my particular wish. It might not be yours. You might derive great joy from putting together a fabulous and inventive ensemble of lovingly selected and vibrantly colored garments. You do you.

Here are four resolutions I have in the continued march toward maintaining a minimalist wardrobe:

Buy less, love more.

This fall I bought two pairs of jeans on the same day. One of them I love. I wear them near daily. The other I wear only occasionally. I can’t tell you why precisely. Something about the weft or warp of the fabric. Something about the particular place where they hit my hips. It’s hard to say what makes a particular thing work better than another. I feel like I probably knew this at the time of purchase. I wish I had waited on buying the second pair. Something to work on.

Mend and mind.

I’m working on my continued mission to take care with what I have. To address things that need attention: removing stains, and resewing buttons, and depilling sweaters. And to take good care of what I have. (In tandem: to become less bereft, when inevitably something does get shrunken or damaged.)

Shop small.

This is my personal resolution this year: To buy only from small makers and to know a bit more about the where and when and who of the clothes I’m bringing into my house. I don’t mind that it can be limiting. In fact, that’s the point. I feel admittedly well set up for this right now because I don’t feel like I really *need* very much more. But if there’s something that I decide I *want*, I’d love for that thing to come from someplace knowable.

Work with the seasons.

I’m not a huge clothes shopper, but here’s a resolution for those of you who are; a little guideline for the folks who genuinely enjoy shopping, but who might be desiring a shift in process. I think we can beat fast-fashion retailers at their own game by deciding to shop seasonally rather than perennially. The rise in fast-fashion chains who produce never-ending collections of new clothing encourages a similarly relentless purchasing pattern. If we decide instead to shop seasonally and to look out adding only a few thoughtful items with a shift in the seasons, I think that could be a good—and easy—start. It requires wearing a certain kind of blinders, perhaps. Or finding an alternative to after-work therapeutic shopping. But it might be a good place to begin.

What about you guys? Any sartorial resolutions in your worlds?

In case you missed them: zero-waste resolutions and decluttering resolutions for the new year. 

zero-waste resolutions for a new year.

We're not a totally zero-waste household—something to strive for!—, but James and I have adopted a number of habits that have us reducing the amount of waste that we produce and this year we're striving to do even better. Because, we can do better. And while we might not all have the power to reverse climate change and stop the oceans from rising, we can definitely take steps to living more lightly and being less wasteful.

In case saving the one precious habitable planet in the solar system isn't incentive enough, consider this: all of these resolutions have a ripple effect on the environment within our homes. Less plastic, less garbage, less packaging means a home that feels lighter, brighter, and, I'm going there: way prettier. Here goes:

1. Buy in bulk.

I try my best to buy as many of our weekly groceries in bulk as possible, but there are always the errant cans of beans I need because I haven't planned ahead enough to get those suckers soaking in time for dinner. This year I'm resolving to soak a weekly pot of beans so that I'm not left guiltily carrying home my weight in canned goods. On the stove today: garbanzos.

2. Refuse disposable cups.

Otherwise known as, bring your water bottle everywhere. Any bottle will do but I really love my Klean Kanteen insulated 12-ounce bottle because it keeps water cool and coffee hot and it's small enough to pop into a bag without feeling too weighed down. Easy to wash, easy to carry. The hardest part is opting to go without when I've forgotten my bottle at home. Especially in the middle of along wintry walk. To work on: never forgetting.

3. Compost food scraps.

We save our scraps in a large plastic bucket that we keep in our freezer. On Saturdays we bring them to the farmer's market for composting. Some weeks more neglected and shriveled pieces of kale go into the bucket than I'd care to admit. To work on: reducing our food waste.

4. Bring a bag.

Big bags, small bags, any bag you can bring, do. I have a habit of keeping my market basket by the door (or, with a curious toddler now, just outside of it) for filling up with recycling. On my way downstairs, I bring it with me, unload the recycling and fill it back up with groceries. I admit I'm less good about remembering to bring a selection of smaller bags to the store for bringing home bulk items like dried beans and nuts and granola. To work on: Putting a few of them into a pouch and having them ready to go for my next trip to the bulk section. 

5. Fill your own container.

Peanut butter, dish soap, and maple syrup are all things that I can fill up a jar with at our grocery store. I never hesitate to hand over my empty peanut butter jar to get the tare at the front counter, or to give my water bottle to the barista, but there are other local shops and takeout restaurants where I'm more shy about bringing my own rinsed-out containers for filling. Fear of seeming like a weirdo, I guess. Or slowing down the line. To work on: #gettingoverit it the new year. I'm saving two bulk containers from the local market where I get my olive and cornichon fix and bringing them back with me. Reusing the container that they provide means I won't have to slow down the line and I can feel much better about not sending the tub 0ut for immediate recycling.

6. Say no to disposable household products.

We haven't bought paper towels or paper plates or plastic cups or utensils for our house, well, ever. By the time James and I moved into an apartment together at 23 and 25, we were both pretty firmly onboard with an eco-friendlier approach to making a home. We keep a bag of rags in the closet for cleaning (since we don't have a washing machine, they get rinsed and air dried before going into the hamper with the rest of the laundry). We bring lightweight washable plates and cups with us on picnics. We have a basketful of rumply linen napkins for mealtimes. To work on: Weaning myself off of sponges for counter wipe-downs. (PS. A little update to clarify that the sponges that we do use are pop-up vegetable cellulose variety. So while not perfect, they *are* a significant improvement over other synthetic sponge options with dyes and plastics, etc. And I'm still looking into it, but some folks even claim these guys are compostable. For heavy-duty scrubbing we use coir brushes and stiff-bristled vegetable brushes!)

7. Find re-usable alternatives for food storage.

This goes hand-in-hand with number 6! I've realized that questions about food storage are a major hangup for folks hoping to reduce their reliance on disposables. But once you get in the habit, disposables like plastic wrap and tin foil are actually pretty easy to avoid. We have a few glass containers with lids that we use for packing up leftover dinner portions and a set of three stainless steel bowls with lids have been a game-changer for us in terms of keeping larger things fresh (a bowl of grapes, washed kale ready for a salad, the ever-necessary batch of cookie dough in the fridge…). And we've had great luck with the reusable beeswax coated Beeswrap sheets shown here. For things that really benefit from it, we do use the occasional sheet of parchment paper, which feels like a less-bad disposable alternative to the others. 

8. Purify, purely.

This one's a little specific, but we've been using charcoal sticks to purify our tap water for the past two years and we're total converts. A stick of binchotan charcoal does effectively the same work as the charcoal that's used in a Brita filter (or similar filtration device) and doesn't come with the inherent waste of a spent filter. (The charcoal can be broken up and added to garden soil after you're finished with it!) (Bonus points: terrific dinner guest talking point! Also: neat looking!)

Now your turn! Any zero-waste initiatives you guys are taking this year (or always?). 

In case you missed it: decluttering resolutions.

Universiteit Hasselt

Wanneer men het heeft over universiteitsgebouwen, wordt vaak gedacht aan oude gebouwen met linoleum vloerbekleding. Voor de nieuwe Faculteit Rechten en het Rectoraat wou de Universiteit Hasselt dit beeld ten allen koste vermijden.

De vraag van de klant: Voorzie de aula's en de cafetaria van de nieuwe stadscampus van een onderhoudsvriendelijk, solide parket zonder iets af te doen aan de natuurlijke, warme uitstraling van het hout.

Klik hier voor meer info

decluttering resolutions for a new year.

In a tiny apartment or otherwise, let’s all agree that the excess of the holiday season followed by the promise of a new year creates perhaps the perfect incentive for paring down, reevaluating our homes, and kicking bad habits to the curb. Clear out the pine needles, sure, but then I say, take a look at the other things that have also fluttered into your space in the last year and decide whether they’re deserving of the space they’re taking up.

Decluttering, a term that I’m fairly certain my grandmother would ask for a definition of, is all the rage; thank goodness and no surprise. Faced with a near endless opportunity to fill our homes with ever more, there’s been a shift in the zeitgeist and people are beginning to yearn for less. 

For me, true decluttering doesn’t mean finding new spaces to store old things; it means giving all of your spaces—visible and hidden—a bit of breathing room free from anything at all.

I have a chapter devoted to the subject in Simple Matters, but since we’ve got a few days yet ’til that makes its debut, here are four quick  resolutions for embracing right away:

1. Use up what you have.

Doesn’t matter if it’s peanut butter in the jar, shampoo in a bottle, milk in a jug, notecards in a desk drawer, or pens in your pocketbook, use up what you have before buying anything new. One of the biggest sources of clutter that I notice in people’s homes comes from an impulse to stockpile. It stems from an urge to buy something—anything—new, or forgetfulness about what we already have, or reluctance to rustle up what we’ve stashed into hiding, but whether it’s undrunk tea or unworn sweaters, or duplicate moisturizers, I’ve got a hunch that making a commitment to use what we already have before adding anything new to the mix could be the biggest game changer in the quest for a clutter-free home. I’m embracing this with particular gusto this year. Hunk of beeswax waiting to be made into candles? Melted and poured. Notecards not yet sent? Written and mailed. Sea salt hair mist in the cabinet? Used with enthusiasm every morning.

Where to start? Your bathroom. Finish the last drop of your shampoo, use your soap until the last sliver slips down the drain, resist the urge to buy the new face mask until you’ve used the one you already heave. If there’s something lurking in the cabinet that’s so heinous that you can’t use it up. Let it go. As I write in my book, it’s gone already. Once everything is finished, start fresh. Buy things one at a time. If you’re like me, it will mean reveling in the newness when you need to restock and enjoying a clutter-free bathroom (fridge, cabinet, stationery drawer, etc.) the rest of the time.

2. Clear your surfaces.

It’s the clutter, perhaps, that comes to mind when you think of the term: The trinkets and baubles and tchotchkes that can make a space feel cramped and crowded when allowed to run roughshod over otherwise smooth dresser tops and counters and kitchen tables.

Where to start? Your bedroom. Take every solitary thing off your dresser (or desk or night table). When you’ve got the pile in front of you, decide what you want to put back in those places. Chances are it won’t be the pile of mail or the spare car keys or the coffee cup you came home with on your morning walk with the dog. Only put back what you really want to look at all the time. Then decide whether what’s left is worth making a space for elsewhere, or whether it’s time to send it on out, never to return.

3. Throw away your trash.

Or recycle it. Or donate it. The point is that many of us keep things in our homes that we were never meant to hang onto in the first place: junk mail and packaging and freebies that are better left behind. I’ll have more to say on the subject later in the week, but these things create visual clutter and take up precious real estate.

Where to start? With five minutes. Take five minutes to scan a room. Gather anything visible that you see that looks like trash: cereal boxes left out on the counter, catalogs that came in yesterday’s mail, advertising stickers still stuck on your stereo, receipts and warranties and brochures left lingering. Make three piles: one for things that can be immediately recycled, one for things that could be decanted or unpacked or otherwise made to feel more like a part of your home and less like a part of the corner store, and one for things that need to be dealt with. Then deal. Not tomorrow, today. We’ve taken to hanging a large clip on the wall next to our door. We use it as a place to leave each other notes, hang up out-going mail, or pin up things that need to be dealt with before they spiral out of control. The relatively small size keeps us from creating an ever-growing pile, and the visual reminder near the door means we’re more likely to take care of what we put there.

4. Pick and choose.

I understand that not everyone is in the mood or mindset for a wholesale rejection of material goods. No need to strip the place bare, I suppose. But if you’re finding yourself overwhelmed in your space—or not enjoying what you have—try, at least, to pack some things away for awhile. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from living in even very tiny spaces, it’s that there’s almost always a place to stash something. So if the pile of books on your nightstand is making you feel crazy, but you find that you’re unable to part with any for good, pile up the ones you’re not reading and tuck them into a place for safe-keeping. 

Where to start? Seasonally. I have a collection of small books—poetry and essays mostly—that I realized I was keeping tucked into the crate I use for my nightstand, but never really reading. This fall, I decided I’d leave just one book out at a time—I replaced David Sedaris’s Holidays on Ice with Oliver Sack’s Gratitude for January and that will be swapped out for Pablo Neruda’s Love Poems in February, and so on and so forth. This doesn’t just work for books. I have a small collection of antique glass bottles that I love, but I’d feel claustrophobic if I left them displayed all the time. Instead, I bring them in and out of rotation depending on the particular twig or flower stem I’m in the spirit to display. 

What about you guys? On a decluttering kick or very much pleased with your clutter thankyouverymuch?