Last week was a wild ride. Still haven't caught up. So many things happened in just a few short days, it's a wonder I'm not asleep on my keyboard.
But crazyville must go on.
I'm afraid this post won't be my most creative since time is limited, but I'll do my best. Here goes.
I hit the cobblestone streets of neighboring Rosemary Beach to see my favorite fashionistas at Willow for the fun make-up event they were hosting. See if you can spy a few other fab bloggers who made there way over there too. And guess who had just walked in and bought a few of their designer duds just before I stepped in? A certain person [yes, click here]. The store was buzzing.
Playing in make-up is fun. Playing in clothes is even more so. Love this little grey number Celia recommended trying on. Couldn't make too serious a pose, that would be boring. Besides, I had freshly rained-on hair that had mixed with thick, humid sea air and wind. Swanky.
Don't you love Celia's shirt she's wearing? [on the right] They also have it in pink in their store. It's on Morgan's wishlist. I sorta have it on mine too.
After Willow, it was time to meet India Hicks who was there visiting for the Alys Beach annual Digital Graffiti festival. You can read all about that amazing event here.
So I hooked up with my home girl, Jennifer. And off we went to the India Hicks lecture that was just across from Willow. [Of course I was thrilled to see India Hicks in person...not only is she a designer, author and model, but she is a fellow mum of FOUR!]
As we arrived in the Rosemary town hall, it was packed full of designers, architects and design enthusiasts who all wanted to meet the famous face behind all of that mysteriously fabulous style. As you might imagine, the second India stepped up to the front of the room to speak, dressed head to toe in white, she captivated every soul in the room with her delicious British accent, creative thoughts on design and memoirs of growing up as the daughter of the famous designer, David Hicks. Her husband, David Flint Wood, later shared images from their book and witty stories about the process of designing and restoring their full time plantation-style villa in the Bahamas. Here's one pic I scanned from their book.
Incidentally, their home's palette is pure white [pitter pat, pitter pat] with carefully appointed pops of colorful geometric patterns [which are periodically changed according to India's mood] and a nod to traditional 18th-century furnishings.
Between us girls, the most entertaining part of India's presentation for me was when her third child, a cotton-top ball of energy, walked up to her, pulled the gigantic wad of bright yellow gum he had been chewing out of his mouth, and deposited it into her hand to discard. Everyone laughed. And I was thinking, "ahhhhh, even famous mommies get to endure such lovely little surprises." In case you're wondering, she kindly handed it back to him to throw away on his own.
Here's a picture of that little tike at home with Dad.
By the end of the event, Jennifer and I both left with this book in our hands and a storm full of ideas in our head.
Oddly enough, after the event ended, a video crew walked up to me, put a mike on my shirt and asked if they could chat with me outside. At first I thought I was in serious trouble. For what I have no idea. But that same adorable little rascal [above] followed me to the interview and sat there taking gobs of pictures of me from a camera he borrowed from one of India's crew members. All while I was being interviewed on video. It was hilarious and disturbing all at once. I couldn't help but wondering in who's hands would his pictures end up? I'm guessing print outs will be made and used for his dart practice later on.
As India was autographing books, I had to risk being a complete goob and ask for a picture. I almost didn't because she appeared quite comfortable in her chair. And I really didn't want to be "that person." Part of me wouldn't have blamed her in the least if she had politely ignored at me, called security pushed away my signed book and asked me to please go. But she didn't do that. Instead she just smiled, got up and paused for a picture. Wouldn't you know that my camera broke the second I stood next to her? So my peep Jill, our beachtown Southwalton Scene blogger had me covered with her camera. Thanks, Jill! Here I am looking at my own camera for the shot [before realizing it had just bit the dust].
I'll tell you straight up: it's easy to feel short, fat and very ungoddess-like standing next to India. Please look at the length of her legs. Unfair! But she's incredibly warm and charismatic so I wasn't able to hate her. In fact, I rather liked her. When we stood next to each other, I secretly thought "what would ever possess me to wear flats the day I might stand next to a model who's a least six feet tall?!?" and I jokingly admitted that I needed a step stool to stand beside her. She quickly retorted with a grin, "just look at my shoes, I completely cheated." [the shoes were amazing] I have a feeling she could say just about anything with that accent and it would still be quite charming.
If you'd like to read more about India, I did happen to spot a lovely profile on her over at All the Best.
Shortly after that, Jennifer and I hopped back across the street to Willow for a visit with our fashionistas and have a teeny weeny glass of bubbly. I have no idea what we're laughing about here. And no, we had not even had the first sip of champagne.
Later on that evening we attended a dinner at Alys Beach [hosted by Studio b] which was in honor of India. We decided to put on dresses and forcefully drag take the menfolk. Don't you know they must have been thrilled to go? Swarms of people chatting about design while sipping on small servings of chilled cucumber soup. In their minds I'm sure it was just as exciting as an NBA playoff game.
Just look at those happy faces.
Here they are reflecting.
It was fun. I did see India there, she looked smashing. Didn't have the courage a second time to take her pic [hello, stalker]. So you'll just have to settle for me and Jennifer.
Until next time, cheers to the weekend.
[first photo courtesy of here]
