The Modern Traditionalist

It's a boy!

2011-11-01T22:38:00.005-04:00

The Bow Tie Guy and I have given birth to a baby boy, Archibald J. McNeil!

Perhaps I should clarify. While it has been almost nine months since my last post here, the gestation has not resulted in a life form. No, the blood sweat and tears produced a lovely little business:

What is Archibald J McNeil, you ask? We are purveyors of exceptional accessories for the maverick gentleman. Our products are handcrafted by an expert metalsmith here in grand ol’ USA, and while we presently offer nine cuff link designs, we will be expanding our range of gentleman’s essentials in the near future.

So please, stop by and take a look around. And I promise to spend a few more hours tending to this neglected space posthaste.

http://www.archibaldjmcneil.com

AGAINST THE GRAIN

2011-03-19T18:35:00.006-04:00

I have never strived to be ordinary. Strike that. As an adult, I have never strived to be ordinary. I did come of age in a small Midwestern town where fitting in was more a means of survival than a character flaw. Yet secretly, in the depths of my psyche, I longed to march to the beat of my own drummer. I consider my swift decampment from that region evidence of this inner desire.

No longer hemmed in by the threat of abuse from others, or rather not caring about their trifling opinions, the opportunities are limitless. And yet, it only occurred to me today that I had unwittingly submitted to the confines of convention regarding one most basic principle of life, mealtime.

Allow me to elaborate. Modern Americans subscribe to the idea of three meals a day. Some may even incorporate a couple of snacks scattered throughout. Breakfast, lunch, dinner. Even those who skip breakfast acknowledge the meal’s existence. I have always gamboled along in this rhythm, never pausing to question what works for me. In fact, upon careful examination, I found I rather dislike the concept of lunch. Lunch, for me, has always been an unconquerable obstacle. I’ve spent hours thinking about what to eat for lunch. While, yes, this may sound a bit compulsive, and maybe admittedly it is, I simply have never jived with that midday meal. It always occurs a tad too early or far too late. I’m not even a fan of standard lunch fare - sandwiches of grey meat slapped between two overly thick slices of bread, salads that fill on demand yet never truly satisfy, soups that sedate, and on and on. Which is not to say I don’t enjoy salad and soups and sometimes sandwiches. I do indeed, just not midday.

Henceforth I will be ruled by this intrepid declaration: I’m abolishing lunch. No longer will I fret about what to eat at the noontime hour. Instead I will fill my day with quaint dalliances, simple affairs to quench my hunger. Breakfast, Elevenses, Afternoon Tea and Dinner. It all sounds quite delightful, doesn’t it?

Dear readers, how do you live against the grain?

THE BOTTOMLESS PIT

2011-02-06T14:07:00.005-05:00

Image from Vogue Paris, by Inez van Lamsweerde and Vinoodh Matadin

Today an annual event occurs where sweat meets tears and glory is reserved for only one. It goes by many names, officially and unofficially, and has spawned countless imitations (Lingerie Bowl, anyone?) but I have reserved my own moniker for this beast which has consumed me for the past few months (see above). Today is my day of rest. Tomorrow will be ripe with results and metrics culminating in a crowning of the game’s winner. Oh, this has absolutely nothing to do with football, reader. Have I mentioned I work in advertising? No? Welcome to my world. If I didn’t get paid to do this, I’d shutter myself indoors, run a steamy bath and settle in with a good book and a pot of licorice tea.

I know I have many blog items to attend to since my absence of several weeks and I promise they are coming. I just need to unplug and reboot for 24 hours.

FROM THE MT KITCHEN: GRANOLA

2011-01-17T12:33:00.002-05:00

Granola scattered across a mountain of greek yogurt is a favorite in the Modern Traditionalist's home, especially when BTG and I are monitoring our waistlines, a perpetual hobby of ours. The high price of most store bought granola is really a bit silly when most of us have the ingredients in our pantries. So apron up, dear reader, and let the spicy-sweetness wash over you.

MT's Granola

2 cups of rolled oats

3/4 cup sliced almonds

3/4 cup pecans

1/2 cup raisins

1/2 cup dried cranberries

1 tablespoon of cinnamon

1 teaspoon of allspice

pinch of nutmeg

1/2 cup honey

2 tablespoons of apple juice

2 teaspoons of vanilla extract

Preheat your oven to 250F. Mix all dry ingredients together in a large mixing bowl. Heat honey, apple juice and vanilla in a small saucepan over medium-low heat until it has a thin consistency. This should take only a minute or two, so keep a watchful eye on it. Mix the honey mixture with the dry ingredients and stir until coated. Spread out onto a large baking sheet (if not non-stick, coat the sheet with oil). Cook for approximately 1 hour, stirring 2-3 times.

I must add, all ovens are different. I've attempted plenty of recipes which instruct one to bake at 350F and my granola has always burned at this temperature in an electric oven but not in my shabby NYC gas oven. Cooking at a lower temperature increases the baking time but eliminates any fears of burning. Burnt granola is quite unsavory. I encourage you to feel your granola for doneness. It should crisp up nicely which may take longer than 1 hour in your oven.

Enjoy as a topping or on its own with milk.

I WANT TO BE IN PICTURES

2011-01-13T21:11:00.007-05:00

Some say a person’s character can be revealed through their choice of footwear, others in how they treat wait staff. I choose to believe you can glean quite a bit from a person’s choice in portraiture. I’m sure you’re thinking I’m a bit off my rocker. Nobody commissions portraits any longer outside of their final year of high school and who wants to be judged by those? I certainly loathe that idea! I enjoy the thought of eventually having my likeness immortalized, but by whom?

My immediate response would be to dig up and reanimate Giovanni Boldini to let him have a go at it. His portraits of Marchesa Luisa Casati smolder and haunt me.

Marchesa Luisa Casati with a Greyhound

If he proved unavailable, I would then seek out John Singer Sargent and channel his Spanish Dancer.

Spanish Dancer

Speaking of lingering appeal, you can’t deny the aftereffects of this Vermeer.

Girl With a Pearl Earring

[Insert gratuitous Warhol plug here.]

Carolina Herrera, 1979

Possibly an homage to Etienne de Silhouette, the embattled French finance minister with a proclivity for cutting portraits from paper, featuring an assortment of family and friends. I do hope they don’t mind being celebrated in the bathroom.

Lonny Magazine, Jan-Feb 2011

Photography is currently the most popular medium for portraiture and the abundance of gifted shutterbugs no doubt helps. Coco Rocha has said of this wedding present from photographer Steven Meisel, “I’ve never liked hanging my model photos in my home, but this is an exception because it almost looks like a painting.” (I simply love her name, Coco Rocha. Coco Rocha. I could say it all day long.)

Photo by Claiborne Swanson Frank courtesy of Style.com

Photo by Steven Meisel

But what about something unconventional? A novel approach from a true original, I could have Lisa Borgnes Giramonti embroider me onto a scrap of burlap. I adore the notion of having my visage stitched onto an accent pillow, allowing me to supply much needed lumbar support throughout afternoon tea or keep a watchful eye on my guests even after I’ve left the room.

(The Fabulous Mitch by Lisa Borgnes Giramonti of A Bloomsbury Life)

I dare you to ask this question at your next dinner party. You're sure to gain far more insight into your guests’ psyches than inquiring about their careers or commutes.

Who would you commission for your portrait?

A MYSTERY

2011-01-11T21:29:00.003-05:00

It's a curious thing when you happen upon a flash of something enchanting and then cannot shake its hold on you despite all efforts otherwise. Such is the case of the eatery pictured above which flashed for an eyeblink in this video on Finland. I know nothing other than my desire to sit within and stare alternately between the frolicking roosters adorning the wall and passersby on the street. It also makes me desire a bicycle something terrible.

WHO IS THE MODERN TRADITIONALIST?

2011-01-09T21:58:00.003-05:00

I’ve been ruminating as of late on what I mean by the term “modern traditionalist”. Truth be told, when this blog began I had a vastly different idea of what it meant. Much of that was an accumulation from the molten amalgamation of others’ ideas, of trends and of what I thought I was supposed to be. That has been a bit of a motif throughout my life, always trying to fit in with the crowd. I’d affix myself to a theme and take a barnacle’s journey through life. Not unexpectedly, it isn’t very gratifying.

And yet there are ephemeral flashes where the real modern traditionalist surfaces. A sudden gasp of air and she’s gone again. At times I fear I’ve lost her forever and then she arrives once more. Now I trust she’s here for good.

But who is she? She’s not twee or precious, two sisters who commonly get stirred up in a fit of possessiveness whenever “traditional” enters a room. She’s also not preppy, an equally domineering cousin. All of this bickering has caused “traditional” to have an identity crisis of her own. I’m not one for math, but maybe a simple equation is in order:

modern = the superficial (style & design)

traditional = the soul (behavior, hobbies, beliefs & passions)

modern + traditional = me

The best summation of this equation can be located in my profile, Elizabeth Bennet as styled by newly anointed Vogue Paris EIC, Emmanuelle Alt (astoundingly excited about Ms. Alt’s new position, but let’s remain focused, shall we?). For a more visual representation, imagine if this cool chick invited you to tea for which she baked all day and presented you with a hand-knit scarf upon leaving. She would be a modern traditionalist.

Photo by Terry Tsiolis from Vogue Paris.

Photo via here. Photographer unknown.

DESK DILEMMA

2011-01-03T14:59:00.004-05:00

Photo of Tori Mellott's desk courtesy of Domino.

I have a dilemma, dear reader. My workspace is incredibly uninspiring. Unfortunately, I don’t have the luxury of earning my dough by means of engaging and delightful activities. I am, admittedly, a corporate drone. Until recently (eh, 2009 is still recent isn’t it?) I was able mitigate the situation by working in an abundantly creative environment. I was at liberty to decorate as I saw fit and had an entire office to do so. Now, I’m in an open workspace which subscribes to a rather unsympathetic clean desk policy. The office is nice, one of the nicer offices I’ve worked in, but one of steel, clean lines and starkness. It’s just fine to get the job done which I’m paid to do, but it leaves me creatively exhausted by the end of the workday. As one who dabbles in my passionate pursuits after hours, I arrive home with a dry well of inspiration. I want to arrive at work each day eagerly, knowing that I’m only a few hours away from whimsy and exploration. I need an overhaul.

The rules of engagement are:

- Décor must be orderly and fairly inconspicuous. No large artwork and nothing controversial.

- Something which mixes form with function will much easier pass muster than something merely decorative.

- Must be lovely!

I have a few ideas knocking around in my head but would love your thoughts as many of you inspire me on many levels.

SLIMMING REGIME

2011-01-02T09:54:00.003-05:00

Image courtesy of the glorious Nigel Slater.

‘Tis that time of year when waistbands become a bit snug around one’s middle and resolve is mustered in an effort to shed the unwelcome flesh which has appeared over the holiday (or in my case, the past 12 months). Methods are researched and poured over, in some cases with greater care than our university studies in days past, each promising swift and effortless results. I’ve indulged in my fair share of snake oil and though I find a bit more of myself embracing this new year, I refuse to embark on a fool’s journey to weight loss.

This year, common sense will prevail. Planning will prevent last minute pizza ordering, the recipe book will enjoy newfound activity as will my body. It’s quite simple, really. After all, licorice tea is a suitable surrogate for those delectable and charming Scottie Dog confections I devour with abandon.

What are your resolutions for this new year?

BOOKISH BINGE

2010-12-22T12:31:00.003-05:00

Photo via here.

I readily submit to you, dear friends, a confession. I am an addict. I am obsessed with books. I simply cannot stop acquiring them. Bookstores, peddlers and pushers of all my desires, must be wholly avoided at times. I once stayed at the Library Hotel in NYC and spent an entire evening with my nose planted in every aged volume, submerging myself in the aroma of weathered paper. The snap of a spine and crackle of a translucent cover performed a symphony varying in depth depending on the heft of each tome.

Ritually, in that lull between Christmas day and the New Year, I find myself ambling along the aisles of my nearest book retailer. Arms weighted with anthologies to autobiographies, hours escape the day, pecuniary concerns have fled, and I ultimately saunter out accompanied by fog of utter ecstasy.

This year a list will chaperone me.

1. This Domino Book.

Yes, THAT book. Yes, I’m the last person on the planet to purchase it. I also have never seen Titanic, but that’s more out of obstinacy than any other influence.

On recommendation from Lisa Borgnes Giramonti at A Bloomsbury Life:

2. Punch

3. A Perfectly Kept House Is The Sign Of A Misspent Life

The latter is an attempt to relax my rigid Virgoan deportment.

4. And anything by Beverley Nichols

These should keep me occupied until February, when the cycle invariably repeats itself.

What, dear reader, is your unconquerable addiction?

A CHRISTMAS WISH

2010-12-20T20:01:00.002-05:00

This would be the view from our front door.

This holiday, I have a Christmas wish, one whose fate will be revealed months from now. I posted earlier this year about wanting a home with a few, non-negotiable features. Since that post, BTG and I discovered a darling rambler, nestled within a diminutive forest, yet have delayed acting upon our desires. Fed up with abrasive conditions of our current locale, the bucolic charms of this gem with a mountain view beckons. Unfortunately the home is leased for six months as of a week ago. The sting from my own procrastination is palpable. I can already envision the large bay window lit from within, welcoming us home every evening. Thankfully, my inquiry was welcomed warmly and my wish for 2011, dear reader, is to have the honor to call this jewel ensconced within the trees home.

What is your Christmas wish?

WEEKEND MISCELLANY

2010-12-17T10:12:00.003-05:00

My spartan breakfast this morning.

‘Tis the season of mirthful gourmandizing. There will be a collection of merrymakers at twilight tomorrow. All other unclaimed moments will be flurry of wrapping, knotting, stirring, and kneading. At some point I will squeeze in some stretching, breathing and maybe a plié or two.

What, dear reader, will occupy your time this weekend?

BRAND NEW DAY

2010-12-13T19:45:00.006-05:00

It has been quite some time since I’ve posted here and even longer than that since I’ve written anything substantial. Now comfortable with providing an accurate rather than falsely generalized assessment of this year thus far, I can attest I’ve had better. In fact, 2009 was pretty fantastic! I found a new city, a new income and, most importantly, a new love. It appears as if 2010 was the payment, due upon receipt, for the cache of emotional gold granted to me last year.

Amid the customary work turbulence, steady and omnipresent, I lost a best friend and welcomed a new one. BTG and I planted a seed and cultivated its tender buds while attempting to quell our impatience in its unhurried germination. I’ve labored far too strenuously on others’ projects and neglected my own, this online journal included.

Through the murk, though, I’ve bloomed. I’m more inspired. You may have noticed a change in decor around these parts, one which is not merely superficial. I’ve come to accept that those tremendously gloomy events in life will always come knocking. The most effective means of mitigating their effects is to relish the ephemeral bits of life which give you great pleasure, even if they're found at the bottom of a soup pot. I hope to share those moments with you, dear reader, right here.

Photo courtesy of Nigel Slater.

One should never judge...

2010-07-03T09:48:00.006-04:00

A superficial examination may provoke one to assume I’ve abandoned blogging. Nothing could be further from the truth. I have taken a bit of a sabbatical from writing and checking in on my blog friends, that is without question. It all has a purpose, dear friends. Bow Tie Guy and I have been in the midst of nurturing a development, if you will. No, no, not that kind of development. More precisely, we are cultivating an embryo of a business. Every spare neuron, not occupied with our day jobs, is devoted to cultivating our joint endeavor. It’s terribly exciting, I will say that, but it also leaves few idle minutes. More will be revealed at a later date...

When I’m not toiling away in the office or devoting my evenings to research (sincerest apologies, BTG), I’m in pursuit of inspiration. I’ve spent the better part of my adulthood helping build some incredible (and lousy) brands. Having, now, the chance to construct my own, I’m finding myself with an insatiable desire for stimuli. Music, graphics, the way the light hits the leaves on the side of I-66 at 8:17 am - it’s all consumed, recorded and stored within my internal hard drive.

I was having one of those moments, traipsing around the web, where I was continually stumbling upon inspiration. A post from the Neo-Traditionalist introduced me to the most delightful bookstore, Slightly Foxed, in London. Whilst scrolling through the photos of said establishment, I narrowed my focus on a most charming book cover for Parrot and Olivier in America, by Peter Carey.

The script of the title and the winsome illustrations set my heart racing. I immediately searched Amazon and found this.

Thud. (That was the sound of my head colliding with my desk in utter boredom.) A few additional seconds of digital sleuthing produced this Australian version:

Still not as brilliant as the first but much improved, in my opinion. I will never understand why British and American books require different covers as we share a language. What I can confirm, however, is that the Brit designs typically leave my heart aflutter.

(The book, for those interested, is a work of historical fiction about French author and political philosopher, Alexis de Tocqueville. de Tocqueville is imagined through the character Olivier de Garmont, a French aristocrat sent to the New Word with John “Parrot” Larrit, who is responsible for spying on his young master for an overprotective mother. What ensues is a tale of a “mid-nineteenth-century Oscar and Felix” set against the backdrop of America’s infancy.

The description above distilled from Amazon.com)

Honored

2010-05-22T11:33:00.003-04:00

Marthe Bibesco, in a 1911 painting by Giovanni Boldini

I was most graciously bestowed two considerable honors by the luminous Little Augury, the Prolific Blogger Award and the Beautiful Blogger Award, which have provided me with unending delight. I toil regularly in a position which rarely gives as much as it gets and I’m constantly bowled over by the rewarding nature of the blogging community. It is not simply the occasional esteem granted, such as these, but more so the nourishment you all furnish when I’m most in need.

That said, I must carry on and extend these honors to the coterie of confidantes I find myself turning to with regularity. I encourage you to drop by for a visit.

A Bloomsbury Life - My imaginary older sister.

Being Manly - Someone with whom I would share far too many Gin + Tonics.

Bow Tie Guy - The best Manhattan maker this side of the Mason-Dixon. Get better, ol’ chap!

Hollister Hovey - The girl has style.

Little Augury - Consistently educating me as only she can.

pve design - Talent, beauty and wit. Deadly combination.

The Neo Traditionalist - Nobody else shines down and clears away the grey clouds as she does.

With recognition comes responsibility. Those listed above must choose 7 bloggers to whom they turn for a healthy dose of style and substance. Then they must reveal 7 treasures about themselves they have yet to share. Here are mine:

I’m proficient at various musical instruments including the oboe, the mellophone, the trumpet and the piano yet never learned to play the one instrument I desired, the drums.

I’ve driven a car at 140 mph on the Autobahn. Driving fast is what I do to relieve stress instead of yoga or meditation.

My uncle is an Elvis impersonator.

I’m related by marriage to Myron Floren, the “happy Norwegian” and accordionist on the Lawrence Welk Show.

I have nearly broken my neck in three separate accidents: backyard gymnastics, cheerleading & riding.

My ancestors once owned an estate in Southern Italy with land as far as the eye could see, until one louche kinsman gambled the majority away in Monte Carlo. Only the house still remains in the family.

I had the pleasure of liberating Alfred Hitchcock’s daughter, Patricia O’Connell, from the company of two stale nuns and subsequently amused her over cocktails at a Christmas Party.

Assistance, please!

2010-05-18T11:27:00.002-04:00

The Bohemian (or Lise the Bohemian), Pierre-Auguste Renoir, 1868

In my pursuit of new endeavors, I’m must ask for some assistance, dear readers. Who would you say exemplifies the description “Bohemian” or “Vagabond”?

Many thanks to all of you!

MT

Raise Your Paddle

2010-05-13T13:02:00.006-04:00

Image via here.

Lovely readers,

I’m currently endeavoring to downsize my personal effects whilst improving my pecuniary affairs. I have three items for bid at the illustrious ebay auction house, including the resplendent, red Christian Louboutins shown above.* I encourage you to take a peek and bid if you see something which sets your heart aflutter. While this might appear a diversion, it is the smoke to the fire of new developments in my life which will be shared with you shortly!

Red Christian Louboutins

Emerald Valentinos

Black Valentinos

*Shoes pictured are not the GENIUINE shoes but an artistic depiction of MT’s Louboutins.

Cultivating a theme..

2010-05-10T08:36:00.003-04:00

Photo courtesy of Working Title Films

Dear Readers,

Contrary to what is evidenced on this blog, I’ve been employed with a miscellany of themes to share with all of you. One in particular is most taxing in that I’m hoping to offer a glimpse behind the curtain to reveal the genuine Modern Traditionalist. While such an endeavor could be deemed self-indulgent, as it quite rightly IS, it is not a process I desire to rush. But to be sure, I will have much to share shortly!

Fondly,

Garden Oasis

2010-05-02T15:41:00.006-04:00

While BTG was in Boston with his family, I occupied myself with building an outdoor oasis. The space is not ideal, a rather tiny balcony, but an upgrade from the ramshackle fire escape I had in NYC.

One trip to Garden District and I’ve tumbled headlong into verdure reverie of hedgerows envisaging a nap beneath a canopy of foliage.

Please don’t disturb me, at least not until tomorrow.

All photos via Habitually Chic.

Anchors Aweigh!

2010-04-30T14:45:00.001-04:00

You must allow me a moment to superfluously praise my older brother, Steven. Yesterday he was promoted to Master Chief Petty Officer in the Navy, placing him in the top 1% of the Navy's enlisted force. Nothing can diffuse the beaming pride of our family. Congratulations, brother!

MT

Away...

2010-04-29T11:32:00.002-04:00

I have been away far too long. The circumstances which stymied my attempts to write and extirpated my wits have absconded into the night. They involved a year-long affair with a man made of iron, making a marvelous ruin of any viable pleasures. I have since been released from his vise and am eager to reestablish a routine.

Anon,
MT

Waking and Walking

2010-04-03T14:34:00.004-04:00

I've just returned from having my taxes calculated and my preparer suggested I would be better served by purchasing a home. I'm not so naive about finances as to have not understood this on my own, I simply haven't been in a position to purchase in the past.

What I desire is a home with room...

to roam...

upon waking...

possibly with a book...

or a trusted companion.

Ingredients to Heal One's Soul

2010-03-27T15:27:00.004-04:00

Photo courtesy of 101 Cookbooks

At a certain point, one must move on from grief and apply their efforts to something far more constructive. Today that took form in a bit of kitchen experimentation. BTG is a lover of Madeleines and I of baking; however, such delights can take their toll on one's waistline. In an attempt to mitigate the impact of indulgence and on BTG's suggestion, I baked whole wheat Madeleines. My loyal recipe was sourced at 101 Cookbooks; simply substitute 3/4 cup flour minus 1.5 tablespoons whole wheat flour for the all-purpose.

The Furry Eccentric

2010-03-24T20:22:00.002-04:00

Rudy

1995-2010

The Furry Eccentric, Rudy, passed last night. His two best friends, the Modern Traditionalist and Bow Tie Guy, were present to comfort him in his last moments.

Lovely Louis Ladies

2010-03-13T12:01:00.002-05:00

Behold the classic beauty of the Louis Vuitton F/W collection courtesy of Garance Doré.

Thank You

2010-03-10T12:52:00.002-05:00

Photo courtesy of The Sugar Magnolia.

A note of gratitude for all of my friends in the blogosphere. Your words have touched me; your curated collections of prose and photos have nourished my spirit. In some cases, (Reggie Darling and JMW via Lily Lemontree) your pertinent themes have transformed me and I have thusly departed a most delicate state.

Thank you for being there when I needed you most.

Fondly,

Just a pause

2010-03-08T13:06:00.002-05:00

Dear friends,

I am silent but not absent. The Furry Eccentric is gravely ill and I've not been up for writing a post as my thoughts inevitably stray to him.

As I'm confident in his fortitude, I plan to be back with you shortly.

Yours,

Modern Manners Monday

2010-03-01T09:42:00.002-05:00

“People count up the faults of those who keep them waiting.”

French Proverb

Charlottesville : Act Two

2010-02-23T20:51:00.003-05:00

Act Two : Saturday

A beam of sunlight persevered through the wooden blinds, as a feathered local heralded in daybreak. A hushed kitchen clamor crept along the floorboards bringing with it a waft of brewing coffee. Breakfast would be served between nine and ten; there could be no delay.

As we exited our room, we met the acquaintance of yet another affable hostess, Virginia, DeLoach’s 14-year old black Labrador Retriever. In the dining quarters, a momentary lapse of grace hastily pursued by a perilous quiver of the coffee cup proved no menace for Ms. DeLoach. In mere seconds, our fireside table was stripped and furnished with a clean cloth as if my breech of elegance had never occurred. We began with an apple bran muffin fresh from the oven (for me) and local yogurt with homemade muesli (for BTG) and concluded with Virginia Ham quiches. A flirtation with the croissant bread pudding made me dubious of my standing in BTG’s life; he assuredly abstained.

As the sun held court in the sky, we embarked for Mr. Jefferson’s University, the University of Virginia. The air was brisk but not frigid, our noses comfortably red from the mile ramble. We stopped for a spot of caffeine at that Seattle coffee company and carried on with our stroll.

My narration would undoubtedly betray the genius of the campus, the only University in the US designated as a World Heritage Site.

“We wish to establish in the upper country of Virginia, and more centrally for the State, a University on a plan so broad and liberal and modern, as to be worth patronizing with the public support, and be a temptation to the youth of other States to come and drink of the cup of knowledge and fraternize with us.”

Thomas Jefferson to Joseph Preistley.

After an adequate tour, we boarded the free trolley for the downtown Mall. We took our midday meal at Miller’s, best known for their hamburgers (scandalously delicious) and former employee, Dave Matthews.

Soon after, Gizmo the Corgi received us at Blue Whale Books with aplomb.

Here I would happen upon my most cherished acquisitions:

1955 Edition of Emily Post’s Etiquette – the last edition she edited before she died

Ager’s Way To Easy Elegance - an obscure encyclopedia of tips written by butler Stanley Ager.

A print of Andrea Palladio’s Loggia del Capitaniato.

BTG and I were transfixed with an architectural mystery as the day advanced. Perched high atop a petite peak, a gargoyle domicile kept a watchful eye on the University below. Our curiosity whetted, we employed our wireless devices to guide our discovery of the cloistered colonnade. After a false start which sent us the way of the University’s observatory, we were on the scent ascending an emaciated, anfractuous drive. Our eyes simultaneously registered the NO TRESSPASSING sign as a diminutive white car revealed itself around a bend (the owner!). We were offered no alternative but to descend in reverse (This is where I’m to commend BTG on his adept and lissome maneuvering down a veritable glacier). A few authentic words of apology to the owner (we’re lost!) and a genial laugh led us to dinner.

We fêted the day’s exploits with a feast at the Inn. An amuse-bouche of a savory apple tartlet was followed by Carolina shrimp and Andouille sausage over stone-ground grits, rockfish with Yukon gold and chive mashed potatoes (for me) and a mushroom “Perlau” (for BTG). A slice of red velvet cheesecake and fresh apple crisp blanketed our stomachs and hastened an ineluctable slumber.

Sunny Monday

2010-02-22T13:50:00.005-05:00

As a self-anointed creative creature, waking each weekday for my daybreak pilgrimage to a sterile workspace devoid of imagination has hampered my spirits as of late. Such a scourge would normally be eradicated with even a modest nip from the demiurgic flask, which has regrettably desiccated. My beastly despondency be damned though, as the well is once again fertile with a little help from my friends, Lily Lemontree and HollyGoesLightly. Having been honored with the Sunshine Award by both of these esteemed ladies, I’m stirred to return to the parchment and permit the words to reveal themselves again. Before I am to proceed, however, I must pass along the Sunshine Award to ten blogs which enlighten and inspire me, a coterie in which my generous benefactors above are incontrovertibly included:

In absolutely no particular order:

A Bloomsbury Life
Little Augury
Miss Cavendish
Bow Tie Guy
Reggie Darling
The Neo-Traditionalist
pve (I’m seconding HollyGoesLightly’s nomination)
Habitually Chic
Frognall Dibdin’s Shelves
Being Manly

And now I must get to work on Charlottesville : Act Two, posthaste!

Charlottesville : Act One

2010-02-18T19:38:00.005-05:00

I am dreadfully delinquent in my blog posting and I have nary an excuse save sheer fatigue of my wits. My ephemeral sabbatical afforded me respite and consequently, a regrettable delay in sharing with all of you the delights from my Valentine’s retreat with BTG.

Act One : Friday

The journey commenced most unfortunately. The days of horse and carriage would’ve proved more efficient. Notwithstanding the trials, we defied the grip of pessimism and soldiered onward, our destination beckoning.

We had the pleasure of boarding at The Inn at Court Square in Charlottesville. The Inn is comprised of two buildings, the 1785 and 1920 houses, with a total of nine guest quarters. Our accommodations, the Samuel Woods room, are contained in the 1785 house which was built by Edward Butler, a signatory of the Albemarle Declaration of Independence. This building is the only extant 1700s structure in the Court Square section of Charlottesville; it faces the historic Albemarle Court House and the famous Stonewall Jackson effigy. The DeLoach family (Ray, Carleen and daughter Candace) of Savannah purchased the buildings to house both the Inn and the DeLoach Antiques boutique.

Received upon arrival by the charmingly Southern proprietor, Candace DeLoache, we were welcomed to our room with complimentary wine and cookies. After comfortably imbibing, Ms. DeLoache supplied us with several recommendations for a quiet and casual dinner. A authoritative Charlottesville denizen, Ms. DeLoache consults with her guests in a manner allowing them to explore the town as locals, not tourists.

On her suggestion, we visited the C&O Restaurant on Water Street with the explicit instructions to be seated downstairs. The entrance evoked the time of Shakespeare with torch lights and firewood flanking the portico. We requested a basement table and were lead to a hidden staircase directly behind the reception desk, our dinner bewitchingly verging on the clandestine. Seated at a table for two opposite a mysterious door we could only assume was designed for surreptitious activities, we savored our Hendrick’s cocktails. We shared the mascarpone-filled, smoked dates (utterly divine) and dined on Steak Chinoise (for BTG) and an elfin potpie (for yours truly). Sufficiently satiated, we bundled ourselves for a brisk return to the Inn.

C&O Photos courtesy of Flickr.

Modern Manners Monday - Presidents Day

2010-02-15T11:22:00.002-05:00

Photo courtesy of Robert Lautman, Entry Hall of Monticello.

After an inimitable weekend in Charlottesville with BTG, I’m incapable of liberating myself from a Jeffersonian vise. As an intimate of an ardent Jefferson scholar, his éclat has become ineludible. In celebration of our Founding Fathers today, an amuse-bouche to whet your desire from Mr. Jefferson himself.

"In matters of style, swim with the current; in matters of principle, stand like a rock."

St. Valentine

2010-02-12T13:16:00.003-05:00

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove:

O no! it is an ever-fixed mark

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sickle's compass come:

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me proved,

I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

William Shakespeare, Sonnet 116

McQueen, Alexander

2010-02-11T10:51:00.002-05:00

1969-2010

Wednesday Whimsy

2010-02-10T15:10:00.003-05:00

Photo courtesy of Lonny Magazine.

Whilst gorging on the current Lonny magazine, I unearthed this novel entryway. Quite "Through The Looking Glass", no? I believe I hear Alice knocking at this very moment!

Fetching Femme

2010-02-10T12:21:00.005-05:00

Photo courtesy of Copenhagen Street Style.

My perambulation through the digital space is oftentimes stunted and consequently, routine. Seldom am I endowed with undisturbed hours to aimlessly ramble through the nooks and crannies of the internet. On occasion, the day appears to extend its reach, seconds slow and I am left with treasures such as the lovely lady above, dog-eared souvenirs of a precious afternoon.

White Out

2010-02-10T10:31:00.003-05:00

"Lavacourt under the Snow" by Claude Monet.

Dear Readers,

As a winter's fury has benevolently provided a day of my own, I intend to zealously devour slighted reading material, if it will have me back. Furthermore, my intent is to furnish you with laconic musings as they arise.

Fondly,

Modern Manners Monday

2010-02-07T17:52:00.003-05:00

"A Dinner Table At Night" by John Singer Sargent

Many hold the erroneous impression that etiquette and manners are laborious and impractical in a modern world. In fact, it is nonessential to be informed of proper protocol; etiquette, and thusly manners, requires only a single effort upon which all else follows: an awareness of one’s environment and his or her place within it. If one dissects each encounter of indecorousness, its provenance is assuredly anchored to an individual bereft of self-awareness. Technology has metastasized obliviousness, yet Luddite I am not. I live by one elementary edict: never allow a device to supplant humanity.

Modern Traditionalist Stork Selects

2010-02-05T17:41:00.003-05:00

Whereas my sundry contemporaries have moored themselves to the matter of St. Valentine’s Day, may I proffer for your consideration an assemblage for those reveling in the grand bounty of romance.

Clockwise from upper left:

Engravable Sterling Silver Rattle, Silver Mine Gifts, $120

Sausalito Basket, Serena & Lily, $239

The World of Peter Rabbit Book Collection, Amazon.com, $100

Peter Rabbit 3-Piece China, Wedgwood

Hooded Animal Towels, Serena & Lily, $38

The Maestro

2010-02-05T09:57:00.003-05:00

Photos courtesy of Vanity Fair.

Beguiling diversions whilst I idly await the arrival of a winter’s fury.

Midweek Missive

2010-02-03T09:17:00.003-05:00

I never travel without my diary. One should always have something sensational to read in the train.

Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest

Tuesday Trifles

2010-02-02T12:30:00.002-05:00

Robust ambitions for oneself, particularly those of the pecuniary kind, routinely involve monastic forbearance. At the outset of such an endeavor, one should avoid contact with all temptations…

Photo courtesy of The Sartorialist.

…as a riotous plummet is sure to follow.

Camden Leather Brogues by J.Crew.

Modern Manners Monday

2010-02-01T10:32:00.003-05:00

Gymnasiums are inherently cruel and unforgiving establishments, a place of toil not repose. Upon entering, one should observe the golden rule of etiquette: treat others with the courtesy and civility in which you would desire to be treated yourself.

1. If the facility is replete with patrons, limit your use of a single apparatus to 30 minutes.
2. Remove only what you will employ in a single activity. Do not commandeer three sets of free weights, stability and medicine balls throughout your stay.
3. Eradicate any scent which escapes your own space, whether it be fetid or fragrant.
4. Vacate only after all remnants of your presence have been eliminated. Most establishments provide resources to aid in removal.
5. If bathing on site, act as if a small child were present. Keep your bits sheathed.

With gratitude,

MT

Weekend Delight

2010-01-29T11:29:00.001-05:00

The promise of unfettered hours awaits as the second hand persists in its odyssey across the dial. I will nourish myself in the pages of a trusted book, regale in the arrival of my Billy Reid equestrian boots and immerse myself in a pot of succulence.

Have a resplendent weekend.

MT

Letters of Devotion

2010-01-28T14:44:00.003-05:00

While I do detest premature preparations for any holiday, I must direct your attention to the utterly delightful Valentine’s cards by Hello Handmade Paperie. HHP transcribes your romantic reverie into three possible calligraphy styles accompanied by a hand watercolored illustration. The precious parcel is sealed Regency-style with wax rendering it a propitious find for those with less than legible script. Your verse may rival Jefferson’s sentiments to Maria Cosway and as such, merits a sumptuous canvas on which to be displayed.

An Amuse-Bouche

2010-01-26T12:44:00.003-05:00

Photographer Andrew Pinkham, introduced to me by Ancient Industries.

Modern Manners Monday

2010-01-25T06:32:00.015-05:00

Dear Mses. and Messrs.,

I do not wish to cause you alarm yet I must address a matter which deserves your consideration posthaste. I am writing to you today on behalf of formality. The ceremony of written discourse has suffered a notable decline with the advent of digital correspondence. The rapidity of our age dictates communication be relegated to 140 character tweets and abbreviated text speak; nevertheless, superficial acts of brevity have not supplanted loquaciousness. In erstwhile days, a gentleman would compose a business query, quill to parchment, with the utmost respect and regard for its intended recipient. Whereas the cogitation behind our professional discourse remains intact, our courtesy for the reader has been compromised.

Admittedly, I have allowed my digital communication skills to falter. Of late, I have endeavored to infuse my emails with even the most elementary civilities. No longer are notes expeditiously sent lacking a proper salutation. Statements are complete thoughts and stream-of-consciousness typing has been abated. The incremental time commitment has been inconsequential.

After all, our civilization has been chronicled through the letters passing from one distinguished personage to another. What will we leave behind?

Your most obedient servant,
The Modern Traditionalist

Wishing You a Sublime Weekend

2010-01-22T07:11:00.003-05:00

For manners are not idle, but the fruit

Of loyal nature and of noble mind.

Lord Alfred Tennyson, Idylls of the King. Guinevere, l. 333

From Bean to Bar

2010-01-20T18:13:00.003-05:00

Photo courtesy of gnuf on Flickr.

The calendar rarely deceives and presently I find myself rapidly approaching one year since decamping to Washington, D.C. A domestic expatriate by trade, I’m acquainted with the romanticized gossamer shrouding one’s former address, conveniently cloaking the tendrils of vexation which had once smothered me. New York, however, will forever carry a resplendent patina from which I will never tire. And while I’ve yet to discover the abundant treasures of this historic land I presently inhabit, my mind is habitually diverted by the charms of that city residing to the North.

I’m perpetually enchanted with artisanal entrepreneurs such as Williamsburg’s Mast Brothers, New York City’s only bean to bar chocolate makers. I’m unable to validate the merits of their chocolate as I’ve only admired it from afar; nevertheless, as an amateur packaging connoisseur, these stand unrivaled. Upon our next pilgrimage, BTG and I will drop in on the Mast Brothers and savour the sumptuousness.

Modern Manners Monday: Fête Etiquette

2010-01-18T12:30:00.003-05:00

Whilst business took me away from home for over a week, BTG received an invitation to an informal gathering on a Saturday evening. With his accustomed diversion 2,000 miles away, he reckoned an evening out would be the appropriate elixir for his loneliness. He had, after all, been briefed on the guest list as his journey would prove the most extensive and positively nettlesome when you factor in the driving skills of the locals. Many familiar names were disclosed; one, however, was conspicuous for its absence.

Upon his arrival, he delighted in the conviviality until he was met with the subject whose name had been concealed. The events of that evening were undeniably sullied because of this individual’s presence, not for BTG alone, but rather for all others in attendance. In fact, had he known of the individual’s participation, he would have politely declined the invitation.

It is natural for one to desire camaraderie amongst their varying coteries; however, one must acknowledge when oil and water refuse to commingle.

“When making up a guest list, a hostess or host must try to invite and put together those who are likely to be interesting to each other...Making a dinner list is a little like making a gift list. You put down what they will like (you hope), not what you like. People who are placed between congenial neighbors remember your dinner as delightful, but those who are not will need wild horses to drag them your way again.”

Emily Post’s Etiquette, 16th Edition

Happy 101

2010-01-16T16:05:00.012-05:00

First, a thank you to Ashlyn over at Miss Magnolia who was kind enough to tag me; I am much obliged! This marks a first for the MT as I’ve never been tagged before. I’m fairly new to the blogging community and this may allow you a glimpse into the varied mind of yours truly. Enter at your own risk!

Award Rules:

List 10 things that make you happy.

Tag 10 bloggers that brighten your day.

If you are one of the 10 bloggers awarded, link back to this blog and pass along.

My List of Happy:

1. This furry eccentric who allows me the pleasure of sharing an abode. We’ve spent almost 15 years together and every day is a treasure.

2. Cooking with BTG which always proves to be an amalgamation of tasty morsels, fighting off the surreptitious advances of the furry eccentric, improvisation and abundant laughter.

3. Summers on Mackinac Island. No cars, only horses and bicycles. It will add years to your life.

4. Road trips. I simply love to drive. There is nothing quite like being on the road with your destination at a comfortable distance and the ideal travel companion filling time with conversation of hopes and dreams.

Photo courtesy of Hollister Hovey.

5. Receiving written correspondence. In a world where most communication exists in a digital milieu, whether it be lengthy emails or quippy tweets, I adore opening my mailbox to a hand addressed envelope hidden amongst the bills and solicitations from the phone company.

Photo courtesy of Courtney Khail Stationery.

6. Toile de Jouy, especially the more intricate designs which provide a myriad of delightful discoveries upon every inspection.

Photos courtesy of Habitually Chic and Jonathan Becker.

7. Uncovering perfect vignettes which provide me endless inspiration.

8. Afternoon tea. It seems to be something in which I only indulge on vacations. One day when I’m not constrained by my corporate shackles, I vow to take tea regularly.

Photo courtesy of The HiP Paris Blog.

9. The cherry blossom season in Washington, D.C. because it will always remind me of an inimitable weekend.

10.

And now, the bloggers who bring a bit of happiness to each day are:

Sofia

2010-01-13T00:18:00.006-05:00

I've been in a Sofia Coppola mood as of late. It could be because I'm in LA working with her esteemed Director of Photography, Lance Acord, who is absolutely lovely. Or it could be that whenever I ruminate about Modern Traditionalism, I think of Sofia, her films and her style.

Modern Manners Monday

2010-01-10T13:44:00.005-05:00

Absolutely divine hand painted note card by Courtney Khail Stationery.

I'm still in Los Angeles working throughout the week; thankfully the boyfriend blog, Bow Tie Guy, has a timely post regarding the ideal composition of Thank You notes. I don't believe I could express my opinions on the matter more eloquently than he has here.

Residential Restorations : a + b kasha

2010-01-09T15:36:00.006-05:00

I've had a + b kasha's website bookmarked on my browser for years. I can't quite remember the circumstances that led to my discovery of them but they have remained on my radar ever since. In its simplest form, a + b kasha are property developers in Paris. Upon further inspection, however, one will find a husband and wife team devoted to the restoration of neglected Left Bank apartments.

Aside from the stunning design, it is a + b's committment to traditional methods of restoration which keep me returning for inspiration. They employ craftsmen who utilize ancient techniques to restore the architectural details on apartments dating back to the 17th and 18th century. They then add modern convieniences such as gourmet cooking appliances and sleek hardware and voila, a perfect amalgamation of history and modernity.

To Note or Not to Note: Thanking Your Host

2010-01-08T17:36:00.013-05:00

Photo courtesy of Harry Mitchell on Flickr.

I'm stuck in LA on business at the moment and therefore unable to dedicate the appropriate time and thought into a post. I did, however, happen to pop over to Social Primer's blog today and he was discussing the proper protocol for thanking someone after they host an event. I encourage you to read it as I wholeheartedly agree with SP's recommendation.

Historical Concepts

2010-01-05T22:02:00.003-05:00

Over the holiday I had the opportunity to view some incredibly uninspired architectural structures. Upon returning to my hometown in Michigan, I’m regularly aghast at yet another natural space which has been bulldozed, leveled and paved into submission. Granted, most of these “developments” sit unfinished, vacant memorials of the great burst bubble. The surviving homes look as if they were produced on an assembly line with no personality or uniqueness.

Conversely, I also had the pleasure of visiting New England for the holidays. Driving in as darkness cloaked the tiny seaside community, we passed colonial after colonial, decorated with natural greenery and a simple candle per window. While each home bears a striking resemblance to the next, the histories contained within hint to volumes of footsteps, whispers, tears and laughter. If those walls could only talk.

Having come of age in a run of the mill subdivision has always made me long for a home with story. One that creaks even on the most peaceful evening. Locating the perfect historical home isn’t always feasible. In such cases, one may turn to Historical Concepts, an architectural firm specializing in traditional and classically inspired designs.

This an example of their work, the Great Marsh Estate in Midland, Virginia. I can envision Elizabeth Bennet walking the halls in search of Mr. Darcy. It was built in the 80s. The 1980s.

Modern Manners Monday

2010-01-03T21:43:00.004-05:00

Photo of Taylor Momsen on the set of Gossip Girl.

After a short holiday hiatus, Modern Manners Monday returns. I am revisiting George Washington’s Rules of Civility as it provides ample material. Today’s topic is near and dear to my heart as BTG will attest.

Rule 52

“In your Apparel be Modest and endeavor to accommodate Nature, rather than to procure Admiration. Keep to the Fashion of your equals Such as are Civil and orderly with respect to Times and Places.”

One should always dress in a manner appropriate to the situation and environment. Cleavage is not acceptable in the workplace unless you spend your working hours wrapped around a metal pole. I would also add that as a parent, one should consider the impression they make upon their kin. If you deem it tolerable for yourself, you are declaring it passable for your children as well.

As for the photo above, to quote BTG: “There is no place where that would be appropriate, not even the bedroom.”

Ancient Industries : Living + Extinct

2010-01-03T00:06:00.004-05:00

This holiday when I found myself in want of a perfect gift for BTG’s mother, I happened upon Ancient Industries. It wasn’t my first visit; I had already swooned over their Bauer cat dishes and Redecker wooden scoops weeks prior. I settled on the Brown Betty Teapot, somewhat of a legend amongst tea enthusiasts, and the hand knitted tea cosy.

Everything progressed according to plan, except for a minor hiccup which delayed delivery of my packages past my date of departure. AI’s proprietor, Megan, swooped in on angel’s wings and not only ensured prompt delivery of the packages directly to BTG’s mother, but she also wrapped each gift in delightfully charming brown paper with red & white accoutrements. In a world where retailers tend to respond to matters of urgency with a simple shrug and mumbled “better luck next time", I was overwhelmed by Megan’s helpfulness and genuine concern regarding the incident. Aside from the stellar customer service, the teapot and cosy were absolutely perfect.

It wasn’t until I began to write this post that I revisited Ancient Industries and realized that their modus operandi is quite aligned with that of the Modern Traditionalist. If you are searching for an item that has a history, a story and a soul, Ancient Industries is your ideal destination.

Cheers!

2009-12-31T15:48:00.003-05:00

David Hicks courtesy of Habitually Chic

Should old acquaintance be forgot,

and never brought to mind?

Should old acquaintance be forgot,

and days of old lang syne?

For auld lang syne, my dear,

for auld lang syne,

we’ll take a cup of kindness yet,

for auld lang syne.

Have a safe and happy New Year!

Merry Christmas

2009-12-23T09:24:00.005-05:00

Image courtesy of Martha Stewart.

For those of you who celebrate it, have a Christmas full of merriment and joy. I hope you are all able to spend this time with those you love.

Last Minute Children's Gifts

2009-12-23T09:17:00.004-05:00

I’m sure BTG isn’t the only one who has delayed his gift purchases until the last possible moment. If you find yourself in want of a proper children’s gift, worry no longer. I happened upon the books pictured above at Anthropologie. They are reprints of Munro Leaf’s classics “How To Speak Politely And Why” and “Manners Can Be Fun”. Their lessons will provide a solid foundation in speaking and polite behavior for even the youngest child. They can also act as a reminder for adults who over the course of time may have let a few things slip.

Modern Manners Monday

2009-12-20T21:54:00.003-05:00

Back when our founding fathers were still young lads, the desire for literature on manners and etiquette experienced a surge. The aristocratic protocol of the courts in England and Europe influenced the land owning class in colonial America. In fact, a young George Washington recorded lessons in civility which have now found their way into a book titled “Mind Your Manners! George Washington’s Rules of Civility”.

The book was compiled and annotated by James Henry II, the descendant of a Scotsman who served on the Continental Congress and who once loaned money to George Washington to finance the Revolutionary War. There are 110 rules contained within; each entry includes a modern interpretation by Mr. Henry.

What better subject to share in my inaugural Modern Manners Monday than the first President of the United States? We will begin with one that is quite dear to me:

Rule 18

“Read no Letters, Books, or Papers in Company but when there is a Necessity for the doing of it you must ask leave...”

We exist in a world of modern conveniences and in many ways we are better for it. Cell phones, BlackBerrys, iPods and Kindles abound. Something happened, however, on this bullet train of technology. Immediacy has usurped civility. I suggest we take a cue from President Washington:

When in the presence company, keep all distracting devices at bay. Only under circumstances of extreme urgency, excuse yourself for any third party communications. In no time you will realize how inconvenient it is to continually take leave of your party for trifling matters.

Cut From The Same Cloth: A Modern Daughter & Traditional Mother

2009-12-17T21:14:00.004-05:00

They both embody an old-world, patrician grace which is somewhat incongruous in today’s world and epitomize classic, refined style. They also share the name Carolina Herrera. There is something enduringly captivating about this pair.

Carolina Sr., the polished, Venezuelan designer, was on best dressed lists even before she founded her eponymous clothing brand. An inveterate traditionalist, she is known for her trademark white button-down shirts. Aside from formal gatherings, one is hard-pressed to locate evidence of her without one.

Photo by The Sartorialist

Looking as if she’s arrived directly from a sitting with Sargent, Carolina Jr. is a contemporary interpretation of the original. She serves as inspiration for her mother’s designs and has also led development of the brand’s fragrances.

I’m influenced by both, not only in the way I dress but also in the way I live. They prove that elegance is far more enchanting than scandal.

Artisanal Traditions : Modern Convenience

2009-12-13T20:47:00.018-05:00

Photo courtesy of pouryourheartintoit on Flickr

I had the pleasure of dining at A16 in San Francisco last week with a dear friend and amateur gastronome. For weeks she had gone on and on about the cheese, so much so, I was convinced this cheese held mystical properties.

For those of you who have never tasted proper, fresh burrata, I weep. It was quite possibly the most uncomplicated and yet most pleasurable morsel that had ever crossed my lips. Flown in daily from Gioia Cheese in Los Angeles, burrata is a paragon of artisinal craftsmanship. Native to the Puglia region of Italy, burrata is handcrafted from traditional mozzarella in a process which optimally lasts only ten seconds. It must be devoured fresh as it has a shelf life of five days.

I implore you: visit Gioia’s online store, purchase a pound, and serve immediately with a sprinkling of sea salt and a dousing of extra virgin olive oil.

Tradition: Christmas Gift Lists

2009-12-13T12:15:00.003-05:00

The young Modern Traditionalist with Santa

Anybody who knows me well, knows I am the consummate list maker. I catalog everything from grocery items, weekend activities, suitcase contents, and my life plan for the next ten years. Conversely, I loathe compiling Christmas lists. Each time I’m asked to supply one, I cringe.

The habit of providing gift lists is instilled at an early age when, as children, we are instructed to complete a list for Santa. I certainly don’t recommend abolishing this tradition for young children; however, my opinion on gift giving outside of the realm of St. Nick has been established for many years. Simply put, if you do not know me well enough to select a gift you think I may adore, then don’t waste your money. With the exception of extreme financial hardship, asking a person to list what they need is rather gauche. The goal of gift giving is to surprise and delight. Nothing is lovelier than receiving an unsolicited item true to your character. The greatest gift is the knowledge that someone understands you, listens and cares enough to present you with an ideal representation of yourself. What greater compliment exists?

Middleburg, Part Deux

2009-12-08T22:55:00.004-05:00

Bow Tie Guy found himself a sartorial soul mate in Middleburg. With evident English-equestrian underpinnings and an abundance of bow ties, it wasn’t a matter of if he would indulge but rather to what degree. The details were enchanting. “Working buttons,” BTG exclaimed whilst examining jackets.

Middleburg’s most charming asset is its omnipresent wit. Take this display for The Tie Thing, a simple device whose function is to affix one’s tie to their shirt thus eliminating inappropriate tie behavior. The droll slogan was enough to compel BTG to purchase a set whose merit he’s appraising today.

Weekend Retreat: Middleburg, VA

2009-12-06T22:05:00.005-05:00

Bow Tie Guy and I ventured out to Middleburg, Virginia on this sublime Sunday. Situated in the heart of Virginia Hunt Country, Middleburg is a cozy hamlet comprised of custom clothiers, countless antiques shops, and enough small-town charm to make the Modern Traditionalist squeal in delight. Steeped in history, this village was established in 1787 by the American Revolutionary War Lieutenant Colonel, Levin Powell. He purchased the land at $2.50 per acre from George Washington’s first cousin. What truly won me over, though, was the way in which such a traditional town embraced the modern world. Take, for example, the sign posted in the window of a women’s clothing retailer:

Now this is a town after my own heart!

Family Heirlooms

2009-12-04T09:00:00.004-05:00

Garance Doré, my favorite fashion blogger, has a post today about her friend’s Hermès Kelly bag. I concur that it occasionally takes time and experience to bring an item to life. A tale can be told with each imperfection. The piece has a spirit behind it which casts its glow on the fortunate beneficiary.

I will ultimately inherit my great-grandmother’s cocktail ring which, as legend has it, was acquired with bootlegging profits. Are you the guardian of a precious heirloom? Does it carry a story or secrets?

Holiday Traditions: The Conundrum

2009-12-02T09:03:00.003-05:00

Now that the first day of December has officially passed, I must hunker down and commit myself to the art of holiday correspondence. I do not wish to incorrectly imply a burdensome sentiment when describing this ubiquitous holiday tradition; sending holiday greetings has always been a means of playing catch-up with distant friends and relations for a corporate gypsy such as myself. My stress lies in locating holiday cards which truly reflect my personality. Am I religiously conservative or festively non-denominational? Classic or contemporary? One thing is certain, I’m a Luddite in my unwavering belief that holiday correspondence should be delivered in the traditional written form and not digitally.

Today I will head off in search of the perfect demonstration(s) of The Modern Traditionalist in paper form. I’m keen on Habitually Chic’s idea of choosing a variety card types depending on the intended recipient. Not only does it provide a personalized solution, giving the receiver a sense that you chose that card especially for them, but it also avoids the monotony of seeing the same card displayed at holiday fête after holiday fête.

Perhaps next year I can commission Hollister Hovey to design the perfect card just for me!

Habitually Chic™: Holiday Traditions

2009-11-30T06:36:00.001-05:00

Habitually Chic™: Holiday Traditions

No sooner do I start a blog about tradition and one of my favorite bloggers writes a post about Christmas traditions. I was cautious about starting such an endeavor during my busiest personal and professional season yet the holidays seems an apt genesis for a digital tome dedicated to formality, tradition, and etiquette.

Welcome

2009-11-29T17:52:00.003-05:00

It all came about on Thanksgiving. A dear relation of mine stood frozen over a partially set table; she could never remember the proper arrangement of a place setting, hence the catatonic reaction. By no means was I disappointed with her, certainly not after the spectacular pasta au gratin she served. Rather the true catalyst for this blog was the realization that had she just tossed the flatware anyplace she pleased, few at the table would’ve taken notice.

The topics of tradition and formality are not uncharted for me; those who know me best will attest to my persistence in voicing displeasure at our current state of affairs. Naughty has replaced nice, jeans are worn to weddings (yes, I witnessed this very transgression), and proper sentence structure has become a lost art in a world of texts and instant messages.

As a Modern Traditionalist, I understand the need for the speed at which we move in this world. In fact, I embrace certain modern amenities when necessary. However, convenience should never supplant tradition. This blog is my means of reclaiming formality, brushing off the dust, and administering a makeover. Welcome.