Verve

"In all important matters, style, not sincerity, is the essential." -- Oscar Wilde

Life is best when there are candles on my window sill and champagne in my fridge. When there's a small glass of bright pink flowers perched on my bathroom sink. When there's a silk top on a hanger, waiting to be worn.

All I know is that life can sometimes be not so fun. Sometimes, papers pile up on my desk and I miss my train. There might be dust bunnies under my bed (what is it about old Boston apartment buildings and dust?), or sad news, or just one of those days.

But flowers and candles are the things I can insist on. So I do. Because it's about more than just getting through the day.

Flair is the wrong word. So are panache and style and all those other overused words.

Maybe it's verve.

Since Mad Men was released on instant play on Netflix, I've wanted to watch nothing else. I just finished Episode 1 of Season 4 and I'm still absolutely devastated by the ending. I mean, devastated in the best possible way. The normally reticent Donald Draper sits down with a Wall Street Journal reporter and, in a cloud of cigarette smoke and whiskey, tells the reporter exactly what he did and just how successful he was... and the opening chords of Tobacco Road by the Nashville Teens are playing and Don has that cocky smile and, yeah, he's still got it and he knows it. 

We all need a little verve. 

So I'll spend my time framing black-and-white photographs and piling fun pillows on my couch. I'll light all of the candles when there's company over... or when there's not. This new place of mine could use a little life.

I'll put Frank Sinatra and Foster the People in the same playlist and I'll quote Charles Eames. I'll make mulled apple cider and open up my new fondue set. I'll go for a walk just to look at architecture, to give some time to the city we live in and to this season. I'll take any excuse to wear high heels, to celebrate, to bake a pie, to wake up early for sunrise yoga....

Because, after all, what's the alternative?