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AS I WAGE my personal color-war battle, I can report the white team is ahead and clearly gaining over its brunette opponent. And this despite my ministrations of L’Oreal Root Concealer, alternating with generous applications of Color Wow Root Coverup. I’ve ruled against over-the-counter formulations, which in previous experience, left me with an unwelcome likeness to Morticia Addams. Salons haven’t opened yet in my neck of the woods, and when they do, it will take time to arrange an appointment. My good friend’s hairdresser is setting up shop on her patio next weekend, and she has kindly offered me an invitation to participate. I’m considering my options at the same time realizing that of all the problems to have during this horrendous pandemic, I’m lucky to have this one.

One possibility is not to decide and live with the white streaks taking over—at least for a while. My husband who usually doesn’t comment—or notice— changes in my appearance has said he likes the way my hair looks. I think longer hair appeals to him, and he overlooks the graying bits.

But while I remain in color (and cut) limbo, I conferred with Washington, D.C.-based Shauné Hayes, founder of Red Carpet Ready Makeup, for advice on tactics for adjusting to root issues. Here are her tips:

• To counteract the washed-out effect of gray hair on your face, focus on brows because they frame the face and sharpen your features. The more gray you have, the brows will be a bigger factor. Keep your eyebrows close to your natural root color and define them to bring dimension to the face.
• Now’s not the time to shy away from blush. Brighten your complexion by applying a touch of blush on the apples of the cheeks. She prefers cream blushes, which bring light to the face. Depending on how much gray you have, you may have to change your usual color. Stay clear of beige or tawny colors, which make your skin tone look muddy next to gray hair.
• Apply eyeliner, at least on the upper lids. Black liner, depending on your gray color, may look harsh and be too aggressive a contrast. Consider the shape of your eyes when wearing eyeliner because well-applied eyeliner can make all the difference in your look. But no matter your eye shape, wearing liner on the top lid gives a more lifted, youthful effect in general. If you want to wear liner on the water line, consider using a lighter color than the top to give definition that is soft and flattering. Don’t get too bottom-heavy as it can drag the eye down. If you are going to do eyeshadow, choose ones appropriate for your complexion. Pink for light skin, taupe for darker. Mascara always helps.
• The more gray you have, the bolder your lip color — in a berry color, or pinky-peach.
• Even as your roots growing out, you want to wear makeup that plays up your best features. People look at your face rather than hair.

Hayes notes that celebs like Jamie Lee Curtis, Helen Mirren, Diane Keaton and the late Toni Morrison embraced gray hair with attitude. Still, Hayes says she’s not ready to embrace hers, which is why she’s still dyeing it. Below, eight ideas for coping with your changing hair.

LEFT: Even if you didn’t got a good night’s sleep, look as if you did with Tarte’s Fake Awake Eyeliner ($20, Sephora). A makeup artist trick for bigger, brighter eyes, the twist-up creamy-gel eyeliner neutralizes the inner rim with matte nude pigment enriched with aloe. You can also brighten up the inner corners of the eyes and brow bone and then blend using the built-in smudger. RIGHT: A brushable, creamy wax that thickens, shapes and grooms brows, the very popular Boy Brow grooming pomade ($16, Glossier) is available in blond, brown, black and clear.

LEFT: I like how liquid eyeliner glides on; what I don’t like is the too-defined, harsh line that you get when you apply it. Charlotte Tilbury’s Rock n Kohl Eyeliner Pencil ($27, Nordstrom) goes on just as smoothly as liquid but the kohl pencil gives a softly pigmented result. It’s available in six colors. I’m a fan of the midnight blue. RIGHT: Nars’s Climax Mascara ($24, Sephora) in black came in No. 8 on the Wall Street Journal’s October 2019 ranking of the 50 best mascaras. “Even if you rub your eyes all day, it won’t crumble on you.”

LEFT: Little Bird Stephanie Cavanaugh stands by drugstore staple Wet n Wild’s Megaglow Makeup Stick Blush ($4.49, Ulta) for subtle color and contouring. On the subject of contouring, Hayes says, “The right shade of blush can slim a nose, sculpt a cheekbone and make the jaw a little less jiggly (looking). Look for a brown without any red, which looks like it’s sitting on the skin,” says Hayes. “When you want areas to recede you want a cooler shade, like taupe, which defines while looking natural. And no shimmer, which highlights.” RIGHT: Bobbi Brown’s Pot Rouge for Lips & Cheeks ($33, Nordstrom), packaged in a mirrored, flip-top compact, multitasks its creamy color (two shades of pink and a melon) for cheeks and lips. Blend onto the apples of your cheeks or blot on lips for a stained finish.

LEFT: The retractable, fine-tip pencil on Anastasia Beverly Hills’s Brow Wiz ($23, Ulta) creates precise, hair-like strokes to fill in sparsely populated brow areas and add dimension. Use the spooley end for grooming and blending.  RIGHT: “The tiny teeth on the wand of Serge Lutens Mascara ($65, Violet Grey) make it precise for getting ink on, lash by lash, without smudges.” Claiming the No. 1 spot in the Wall Street Journal rankings of the 50 best mascaras, it may be worth the indulgence.

MyLittleBird often includes links to products we write about. Our editorial choices are made independently; nonetheless, a purchase made through such a link can sometimes result in MyLittleBird receiving a commission on the sale, whether through a retailer, an online store or Amazon.com.

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REMEMBER the men and women who sacrificed their lives for our country.

HERE’S MY problem with umbrellas. You and everyone else pop one up at the same time during a rainstorm, and then nobody can see very well. I fear I’ll poke someone in the eye—or just as bad, they’ll poke me. The other problem, well, it used to be more of one, is leaving it somewhere you can’t remember. And say, if there happen to be wind gusts and rain, the umbrella—even a more expensive one—has the nerve to turn inside out, leaving you with no alternative but to curse and swear until you can—possibly—right its position or give up and throw it away in disgust.

MyLittleBird’s Nancy McKeon has had her own umbrella misadventures, mostly while walking her dog, a process that has special requirements. “You’re holding a leash and, if it’s raining, an umbrella. So now what do you do when the dog poops? You wind up holding the umbrella between your arm and your neck while picking up crap, all the while the dog is pulling to get a move on already. It’s hard to do without letting go of the umbrella, the dog or the poop—or all three. (Though I must say it’s entertaining to watch…someone else.) A lot of people solve the problem with a hood but my hoods are always too big and flop down over my eyes. I tried a baseball cap, just to keep the top of my head from getting drenched. But I have a hard time seeing peripherally from under that giant bill, especially when wearing a mask.”

For her daily dog walks, Nancy decided to purchase a vinyl bucket rain hat in red. Which prompted me to browse for other candidates, too, in light of inevitable downpours to come. While doing so, I discovered several attractive, serviceable sun hats, as well as a few that brave both rain and shine. Below, our hat-buying suggestions.

—Janet Kelly

LEFT: The bucket hat—with its downward-facing brim—has moved in and out of favor. This spring, it’s back in vogue. Tory Burch’s “Bon Voyage” PVC Rain Bucket Hat ($109), with a travel-theme print, does double-duty for future getaways, rain or shine. The waterproof plastic shell ensures your head stays dry, the brim keeps your face protected from the sun. RIGHT: LL Bean’s H2Off Rain Bucket Hat ($44.95), made of lightweight, waterproof polyester fabric, with nylon lining, will rebuff the rain while looking summery with its spray of white polka dots on a turquoise background. The bucket hat bonus: You can crumple them up, toss them in a bag and not worry about bending a brim or collapsing a crown.

LEFT: Ganni’s Woven Cotton Wide-Brim hat ($115, Mytheresa) looks similar to a bonnet one of Alcott’s Little Women would have worn to shield their pale faces from the sun. Charmingly retro, but not at all prissy in this smart khaki-green. RIGHT: In case of frightful summer storms, choose sides. Wear Chico’s water-repellent Reversible Rain Hat (Chico’s, $29) with the leopard print showing. We can’t promise to scare away the raindrops, but the fabric is water-repellent.

LEFT: The functional, durable boonie hat was a favorite of the military during the Vietnam War. The wide brim defends against inclement weather and sun exposure, while the chin strap secures the hat in place. Rains’s Boonie Hat ($34), made from a waterproof fabric with a matte finish, is available in shiny beige and black, but we’d choose the striking silver. ABOVE RIGHT: Serious outdoors people, take note. The Tilley TH8 Charlotte Hemp Sun Hat ($90) is designed for maximum sun protection with fabric that has the highest ultra-violet protection factor— 50+.  With a system of cords both front and back, it will stay put in high winds, float in water (important for mariners) and a finish that repels the rain. And it’s guaranteed for life.  Depending on your whim, you can wear the brim turned up or down. BELOW RIGHT: A little hip-hop, a little California surfer, this Nylon Boonie Hat ($50, Need Supply) with flat, flexible brim, mesh lining and cotton drawstring is designed by streetwear brand Stussy.

LEFT: This Francine Lightweight Sun Hat ($170, Bloomingdale’s) comes from my favorite milliner, Aussie Helen Kaminski, whose hats never fail to frame faces in the most flattering ways. To justify the price tag, I would wear it on rainy days, too (it’s water-repellent). RIGHT: DC’s home-grown boutique Proper Topper sells a variety of hats—from fancy fascinators for Kentucky Derby-like events to much more casual styles like this navy-and-white Rain Bucket Hat ($25, Proper Topper). It’s water-repellent, packable and adorable.

LEFT: I’m a sucker for slickers, which is why this Wide-Brimmed Vinyl Rain Hat ($17.79, Amazon) appeals. Available in nine colors (including red, which Nancy purchased), it’s inexpensive protection from the elements. RIGHT: Beach bound? Athleta’s water-resistant Baja Bucket Cap ($42) with removable chin straps makes a handy travel companion, folding up into a hidden, interior pocket for easy-peasy packability. It also comes in a cheery red.

MyLittleBird often includes links to products we write about. Our editorial choices are made independently; nonetheless, a purchase made through such a link can sometimes result in MyLittleBird receiving a commission on the sale, whether through a retailer, an online store or Amazon.com.

WHEN THIS whole pandemic thing started, my husband began walking around with a thermometer in his pocket, enabling him to check his temperature whenever he was feeling “covish.” I found this behavior neurotic, but since I’ve (rightfully) earned the title of “Most Neurotic” in our marriage I conceded that Mitch was just being cautious. I’ve gotten used to his random announcements of “98.6” and “97.8”— in these troubled times, what makes him happy makes me happy.

But now things are worse, since he got something called a Pulse Oximeter— not to be confused with a Flux Capacitor — thanks to the suggestion of our dear friend Teresa, a nurse practitioner whom I love madly but wish she had kept her mouth shut. That little thing they stick on your finger at the doctor’s office measures how much oxygen you are getting, or something like that. (“Measure your SpO2 and pulse right in the privacy of your own home!”)

Now Mitch does it all the time, and by that I mean all the time, despite the instructions advising not to repeat a reading within two hours. The number on the screen should flash between 95 and 100 in a healthy person. Yesterday Mitch got a 94 which immediately dropped precipitously to a 93. By 91 he was ready to call an ambulance. This morning, thank God, he was happy with a solid 98. But he checked it again, and it started to slip downward, causing him some amount of consternation. Now I’m thinking of calling an ambulance for myself, just to get out of here.

—Andrea Rouda

Andrea Rouda blogs at The Daily Droid. 

IN A RECENT Wall Street Journal, Peggy Noonan wrote, “People need hope. Americans live on it. We must return to life.” Like her, many other columnists report that Americans are chomping at the bit to return to normalcy. Well guess what: not me. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, or possibly ever again. They can open up all the restaurants they want, but I won’t be there.

No thanks. The idea of hearing the daily specials from a server wearing a face mask is a total turnoff. Fist of all, could I even hear them distinctly? And secondly, how appetizing is it to be served by someone wearing a face mask specifically designed to prevent spittle from flying out of his/her mouth and directly onto me and my food? In fact, how have I ever eaten in a restaurant before all this started when they weren’t wearing masks?

As for “Take me out to the ball game” —something we enjoy in the summer when the Portland Seadogs play other AA teams like the Wichita Wingnuts and the Milwaukee Milkmen—that’s not happening, and with good reason. People are packed in pretty tight in those bleachers, and everyone is eating the whole entire time. Last season I’m pretty sure I was sprayed with ketchup for an entire inning by the guy behind me eating French fries. I’ll pass on that.

Sadly, attending the symphony, the theater, live concerts, and even Broadway shows are no longer on my list of things to do. This is a dreary fact of life I must accept, being in that age group deemed “most vulnerable” to the Covid-19 virus. In my search for replacement activities, the main one that works for me so far has been eating, so I may take up sewing and begin altering my entire wardrobe. That should keep me busy until a vaccine shows up.

—Andrea Rouda

Andrea Rouda blogs at The Daily Droid. 

I’M THINKING ABOUT wardrobe basics. Like that summer staple—white T-shirts. You’re probably saying it feels more like sweatshirt than T-shirt weather, but the forecast this weekend promises much warmer temps. While they may be a closet evergreen, tees don’t last forever. After taking inventory of my current supply, it’s clear some refills are in order. I’m happy to note there’s lots to choose from. In addition to traditional tees—form-fitting and crisp-looking—there are slouchy and relaxed styles, ones with puffy or ruffled sleeves and others with lacy, openwork. Some have curved hems. My go-to is under a jacket and with jeans. But they go with just about everything from casual to evening outfits. Even formal skirts and tuxedo trousers (should we need them again).

See below for 11 tees that suit us.

—Janet Kelly

LEFT: Bored by basic? The flutter sleeve on Paige’s rayon-and-polyester Rochel Ruffle T-Shirt (reduced from $119 to $47.60, Nordstrom) is a charming and feminine update on the classic. RIGHT: Some like it slouchy. From a capsule collection of stylist Karla Welch and lingerie brand Hanes, the lightweight X Karla Original Cotton Jersey T-Shirt ($48, Matches Fashion) comes with side-hem slits to up the comfort of the long, loose shape.

LEFT: If you like a collar, the texture of cotton pique and a loose cut (unlike the traditional fitted Lacoste polo), this Modern Fit Flowing Stretch Cotton Pique Polo —reduced to $57.99, and available in 11 other colors —may meet your needs. RIGHT: I bet this Citizens of Humanity Adele Tulip Sleeve Cotton Top ($118, Nordstrom) looks flattering on (never mind that it camouflages those trouble-spot upper arms), but I’ll hold off to see if the price plunges.

LEFT: Note the focus on sleeves. Here’s another one but for a more wallet-friendly price and with openwork on the bodice. Mango’s eyelet Puffed-Sleeve T-Shirt is $27.99.  CENTER: I don’t often take to tee shirts with sayings or scenes, but I like the fierce attitude of this Leopard Graphic Tee (currently reduced to $69.30 from $99 at Anthropologie) It’s designed by Clare V.— a label with French-influenced point of view—in collaboration with Anthropologie. RIGHT: Stateside’s slim-fitting Supima Slub Jersey Baby Tee ($68) has a textured finish and is slightly see-through in white, but it’s also available in navy, charcoal, black, deep green, and coral.

LEFT: Lace and Levi’s are not two words that I would normally think go together. But Levi’s is showing its softer side with this cotton Perforated Lace T-shirt  with short wide sleeves and a straight hem ($69, Farfetch) RIGHT: I just bought this Short-Length Jersey T-Shirt ($39, Cos Stores) because I wanted a loose and slightly cropped style to go with a midi pleated skirt I dream about wearing.

LEFT: Z Supply’s T-shirts are simple and traditional. The brand’s Perfect V Tee ($28, Shopbop) is their most fitted. Most of their styles are more relaxed. RIGHT: I just tried on a black James Perse slim-fitting T-shirt that I bought more than 10 years ago. It still feels soft and comfortable. A decade on, I prefer the look of the label’s Vintage Boxy Tee ($85, James Perse). It’s too spendy, yes, but I could potentially rationalize the buy because of the long sleeves, which work for this cool May weather and would provide some protection, say, on a beach day, if that ever comes to pass.  And the long sleeves extend the wear possibilities into fall.

MyLittleBird often includes links to products we write about. Our editorial choices are made independently; nonetheless, a purchase made through such a link can sometimes result in MyLittleBird receiving a commission on the sale, whether through a retailer, an online store or Amazon.com.

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MY INTRODUCTION to Zooming was a sad one. I downloaded the software specifically to be a spectator at a memorial service for a friend.  After clicking on the link I received, suddenly I was transported to a graveside somewhere in Maryland, where a rabbi and then a series of family members spoke lovingly about the deceased. Lots of little screens showing other people who were present, some crying, appeared above the main screen. I was depressed all day.

The next time I Zoomed was with my husband and our dear friends who live in Virginia. It was great fun. People call it “Zoomtini Hour” when you do it at the end of a day, everyone with a drink in hand. While nobody on our call was drinking a martini, and all we did was talk about Covid-19 and how it was impacting our lives, still it was a blast to see their faces up close and remember visiting their beautiful house on the river. It was almost like being there. Almost. Since their cell service was spotty, every so often a face would freeze in a weird expression while the voice kept talking. The whole thing felt just like an old “Twilight Zone” episode, that one where a strange virus takes over the world and everyone is forced to stay indoors and can communicate only over computer screens.

Anyway, by then we were hooked and realized the sky’s the limit! Tom and Linda in D.C. had much better cell service and came in crystal clear. Hey, there’s that painting in their dining room that I always loved! And Herrmann, their adorable schnauzer who we met when he was just a puppy, jumped onto Linda’s lap and stayed for the whole conversation. We all drank heavily (not the dog), just like on so many Saturday nights when they lived around the corner from us. But this was even better since we didn’t have to stumble home afterwards and could just crawl upstairs to bed.

Since then we’ve Zoomed repeatedly, each time with greater ease and far less confusion. Last night we spent an hour-and-a-half with our best friend in New York, and even toyed with the possibility of starting a Risk game next time. The whole thing is even better than before, eliminating all that annoying business of booking airline tickets, going through security and sitting in a tiny cramped tube for several hours. I’d suggest investing in Zoom today, since this is obviously what our future looks like.

—Andrea Rouda

Andrea Rouda blogs at The Daily Droid. 

WHEN WAS the last time anyone put some makeup on? That was the question friend and loyal MyLittleBird reader Nancy Gold posed to us last week. We put the query out on our Facebook page and received reader responses that ranged from “A little every day, just enough that passing a mirror doesn’t scare me” from Candy Sagon to “Today—WebEx meetings” from Inga Adams, and from our own Kathy Legg,  “I think I’ve put on makeup once since this whole ordeal began. I may never bother with makeup again. I find I don’t miss it.”

Maybe not so coincidentally, last weekend a Wall Street Journal story reported on the reversals of fortune for cleaning supplies and makeup. Sales of cleaning products, soaps and vitamins from Clorox and Colgate Palmolive soared in the last three months. “Meantime, beauty giant Estée Lauder Cos. had its weakest quarter since the recession, with sales down 11%, to $3 billion. It swung to a $6 million loss as global shutdowns cut off consumers’ access to high-end beauty products, such as Clinique skin cream to [and] M.A.C. makeup.”

The conventional wisdom is that sales of lipstick—an inexpensive, feel-good buy—go up in a recession. But this is a pandemic and a recession on steroids. And when you’re required to wear a mask whenever you leave the house, wearing lipstick that not only won’t be seen but will get smeared beneath your facial cover doesn’t make sense. Aha, but that leaves the eyes to, er, focus on. Everyone can see those peepers. Below, 10 products to make sure your eyes have it.

—Janet Kelly

FAR LEFT: You’ll have to judge whether it lives up to its name, but Too Faced’s Better Than Sex Mascara ($25, Ulta) is better than most other products that promise voluptuous lashes. My thin fringe needs a boost. It gets one from this hourglass-shaped brush with extra-stiff bristles that lift, coat and curl even the wispiest, hard-to-get-to lashes. One coat will probably do you unless you’re heading to a ball, which I’m guessing you’re probably not.  NEAR LEFT: When I told the 12-year-old adorable Alexis (Kelly) I didn’t use an eyelash curler, she said, “Rookie mistake.” With that in mind I searched for my abandoned Shisheido Eyelash Curler ($22, Sephora) and used it before applying my mascara. The kid was right. Curling your lashes pre-mascara application makes a decided difference. Thanks to the curler’s flexible silicon rubber pads, I could use it without fear of irreparable eye damage. NEAR RIGHT: I confess I have been using Rodan + Fields Lash Boost ($155), an eyelash serum/conditioner, for an off-label use—on my brows. And they’ve never looked darker or fuller. Of course, I haven’t waxed or tweezed them in two months. Could it be my daily collagen powder intake?  Nonetheless, I plan to place the definitely pricey product where it’s intended to go—on my lashes. FAR RIGHT: Beauty pros say brows frame your face and advise using brow pencils instead of gels for a more natural look. The fine tip of Jane Iredale’s Retractable Brow Pencil (available in 5 colors, $24, Dermstore) helps fill in those sparse spaces in the brows, while a spoolie brush on the other end of the pencil shapes and grooms them.

LEFT: Cle de Peau Beaute products get raves, and if I were to decide to wear color on my lids, I’d pick this  Cream Eye Color Solo Eyeshadow ($45, Neiman Marcus) in this gorgeous slate blue that looks so dewy, as if it would just melt into the skin. CENTER: Puffy bags, fine lines, dark circles? Frownies Under Eye Gels (3 reusable sets, $19.99 Amazon) won’t erase all of that, but used for about 30 minutes, the area under your eyes will look brighter and tighter. The gel also feels cool and refreshing. RIGHT: I don’t claim to know how Bausch + Lomb’s Lumify Eye Drops ($14.99, Walgreens) does what it does, but when I put a drop in each eye in the morning, the red disappears.

ABOVE: What I like so much about this Charlotte Tilbury Rock ‘N Kohl Eyeliner Pencil (available in six colors, $27, Nordstrom) is that it glides on as smoothly as a liquid liner but instead of delivering a hard, defined line, you get a soft, rich kohl rimming your lids (psst: much more subtle than in the photo above).

LEFT: Pick from among five different colorways, including burgundy and solar glow, in M.A.C.’s pocket-sized Times Nine Eyeshadow Palette ($32, Nordstrom). Then amuse yourself by coming up with countless shade combinations. RIGHT: Drunk Elephant’s Shaba Complex Firming Eye Serum (.5 ounces, $60, Sephora) with a satiny feel can be applied under and around the eyes. The packaging is not only attractive, it also controls the amount you pump out for each use. Mine has lasted for months.

MyLittleBird often includes links to products we write about. Our editorial choices are made independently; nonetheless, a purchase made through such a link can sometimes result in MyLittleBird receiving a commission on the sale, whether through a retailer, an online store or Amazon.com.

In front of Bonwit Teller windows / Photo / Museum of the City of New York.

DEPARTMENT STORES may have been failing slowly for years—think the demise of Bonwit Teller, Garfinckel’s and B. Altman’s—but a recent New York Times article sounded the death knell for the ones that remain, their fall hastened by the shock of the coronavirus pandemic. Barneys New York filed for bankruptcy last year; Neiman Marcus and Lord & Taylor are facing the same fate; Macy’s is scrambling and so is Nordstrom. The director of retail studies at Columbia University’s Business School remarked, “The genre is toast, and looking at the other side of this, there are very few who are likely to survive.”

Flashing back several years to Masterpiece Theater’s series “Mr. Selfridge”(2013-2016), I’m reminded of American Harry Selfridge who founded his eponymous London store in 1909. His aim was to entertain, amuse, surprise and delight his customers, as well as help them escape their worldly woes. For a long time department stores have seduced us: The cosmetic counters with heady fragrances and prettily packaged makeup that promised transformation, the clothing artfully displayed to convince us how gorgeous we’d look in that certain something.

For me the magic began the moment I went to see Macy’s Christmas windows with my grandparents. In elementary school, my mother would take me to Ohrbach’s, which I don’t remember as anything special, but mom liked a bargain and knew she could get one there.  In later years we’d shop Fifth Avenue, either going to B. Altman’s and Lord and Taylor’s or to Saks Fifth Avenue, where I remember the white-gloved, uniformed elevator operators fascinated me, and our favorite while it lasted, the elegant Bonwit Teller. If we didn’t eat at the Lord & Taylor’s Bird Cage or B. Altman’s Charleston Gardens, we’d go to Hamburger Heaven (across the street from Saks and St. Patrick’s Cathedral) and sit at the counter. I still remember the sign at the front of the restaurant. “If you munch a sprig of parsley, you needn’t eat your onions sparsely.” I didn’t test the idea because at the time I never ate onions on my burger. When I worked in New York City in the ‘80s, Bloomingdale’s under the showmanship of Marvin Traub became synonymous with style, transporting customers to France, India, Italy and Ireland with lavish displays of clothing, furniture and food. On Saturdays going to Bloomies with friends was the afternoon’s entertainment. I continued to love going with my mom, though, whose unerring eye would spot something unique —like a small metallic box with a moonstone clasp from India she suggested I carry as an evening bag.

—Janet Kelly

With Mother’s Day arriving May 10 (a week from this Sunday), I thought many of our readers would also remember shopping with their mothers at these grandes dames stores. I asked; here’s what they—from Pittsburgh to Portland, Oregon—recalled.

Christine Ledbetter (Hannibal, Missouri): When I was engaged, my mother took me to B. Altman’s to buy my trousseau. We purchased white silk Dior shoes, and a peach Pucci negligee.  We had lunch afterwards in the restaurant, and I remember thinking from now on, I would always shop at Altman’s.

Maureen Young (Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania): I remember waiting in line to see Santa Claus holding my grandmother’s hand at Marshall Fields in downtown Chicago. I was six or seven years old and heard for the first time Gene Autry singing “Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer” over the loud speaker.  I was convinced for many years that the song ended with Rudolph going down to his store (ee).

Judith Robinson (Pittsburgh):  I loved going shopping with my mother at Pittsburgh’s fabulous department stores—Kaufmann’s, Horne’s, Gimbel’s and Saks. What comes to mind first was the old ladies who sat against the wall in Horne’s beautiful tea room restaurant. Almost every one of them had blue hair.

Nancy Gold (Philadelphia): I remember going to Bonwit Teller with my mom and sisters for shopping and lunch.  We would get dressed up and have to be on best behavior. I think it was maybe twice a year, for winter and spring coats, which my father’s father would pay for, for some reason. Bonwit Teller has been gone for decades. But I remember it being a wonderland for a kid.

Catherine Clifford (Washington, DC):  My mother grew up in New York City and every year, took us to see the Fifth Avenue Christmas windows. Elegant old stores like Bergdorf Goodman, Best’s, Peck & Peck were always at the horizon, but as the seventh child of a teacher, my wardrobe came from used-clothing sales, sparsely supplemented by bargain bins at S. Klein. But when I was in sixth grade and we’d gotten very slightly richer, my mother decided that a family event warranted a dress from De Pinna’s. Thick carpets, high ceilings, hushed tones, commodious fitting rooms, unfaltering service from a certain-age attendant—all imprinted deeply. In high school, I started sleuthing markdowns from high-end stores; out of college, despite poverty wages, my first credit cards were from Saks and Lord & Taylor. As a poor Conde Nast writer and editor, sales racks at Altman’s, Saks and Bonwit’s were regular stops on my way home. Above all, I adored going to Lord & Taylor first thing in the morning: coffee and tea from silver services on white tablecloths in the foyer, and at 10am sharp, all stood while the national anthem played, then velvet ropes were unclipped and shoppers ushered in. It was not the merchandise so much as this—the tradition, the echoes of gracious New York history, the beautiful furnishings in beautiful buildings, the city at its best even in the gritty ‘80s, the icons from my mother’s girlhood, and the grown-up that it meant I was if I shopped in such places—that cemented my affection for the grandes dames of emporia, and makes me so wistful at seeing the last of them fade away.

Caren Sniderman (Pittsburgh): Pittsburgh lost its downtown department stores so long ago. Kaufmann’s, Gimbel’s, Horne’s, the large department stores where everyone shopped before shopping malls rose in the suburbs. My grandmother dressed up, with a hat and white gloves to shop in town, I met my friends under the Kaufmann’s clock, and my mother and I enjoyed tea sandwiches and rich chocolate milkshakes with coffee ice cream in Kaufmann’s Tock Tock Room. In a way, we said goodbye to downtown department stores long before Covid-19 and sheltering in place hurt the ones still standing. But the sweet memories of a different era are still there.

Kit Alderdice (Portland, Oregon): Lunch in the Birdcage. With the birdcages hanging in the center of the room. L&T was my mother’s go-to, and I, of course, went-with. I could always hear the alarm system on the floor with the high-end designer and furs. A high-pitched buzzing that my mother couldn’t hear. Made for an exciting elevator ride. Fifth floor, I think!

Nancy McKeon (New York City): I remember something probably a lot of us do: getting separated from my mom at Macy’s Herald Square, that ginormous store, and having to sit in the security department while they paged my frantic mom. I was crying (of course, I was always crying). But the one I regret most has been gone quite some time: B. Altman & Co., Fifth Avenue and 34th Street. My great-grandmother bought the fabric for her daughter’s (my grandmother’s) 1906 wedding dress at Altman’s new Fifth Avenue location (and had a seamstress copy the wedding dress of Alice Roosevelt Longworth, which had been seen earlier that same year in all the newspapers, complete with leg-of-mutton sleeves). During the years after Benjamin Altman’s death, when the store was run by the Altman foundation, it changed little: there was always a fireplace department (because back then grand apartments had fireplaces) and a main-floor religious counter that sold Bibles and hymnals and such (maybe rosary beads?). That latter was reputed to be because the foundation made generous contributions to Catholic charities, and the nuns and priests repaid it with their custom. The building exterior was declared a New York City landmark in 1985, but I don’t know how much has happened to the interior. So I don’t know if the original water-hydraulic elevators are still there—but they were well into the 1980s, the enormous pistons under the elevator cabs visible through the glass elevator doors and glistening with water!

Linda Kastan (New York City): In the late fall of 2001, my mother was in a coma in a south Florida hospital after surgery on her pancreas. Nobody knew whether she was going to survive but the doctor gave me leave to go back to New York for a couple of days. When I arrived home I headed to Barneys and splurged on an expensive winter coat by Jean-Paul Gaultier. It lifted my sad mood. I returned to Florida to find my mom had come out of the coma and was doing well. She lived another three years. I still have the coat.

My beauty-in-quarantine regimen got a head start this fall when my dermatologist recommended I try a Retin-A cream (with hyaluronic acid and niacinamide) from Skin Medicinals. The company’s aim is enabling physicians to better treat their patients by creating tailored prescriptions to treat specific needs—at affordable prices. To get my scrip, I didn’t have to set foot in a pharmacy; my doc e-mailed my prescription and I sent it to Skin Medicinals with my payment (about $60 for one ounce, as opposed to the usual $100-plus). At renewal time, the company automatically sends an e-mail. Whenever I see my dermatologist again, I plan to ask what else she might prescribe for me.

LEFT: No. 7 Laboratories’ Line Correcting Booster Serum ($41.99, Walgreens) is designed to be applied directly to areas of the skin most likely to lose definition/firmness. Yes, that’s right—the neck and jawline. In the era of Zoom, necks are front and center. In case you didn’t know though, the Zoom app includes a filter that softens lines and blurs blemishes so you look subtly better on screen. CENTER: For smoother-looking, more moisturized skin, I head to the grocery, not the wellness, shelves of Whole Foods. Save yourself some bucks with the store’s Organic Refined Coconut Oil  (14 ounces, $5.99). RIGHT: The Ordinary takes a science-based approach to skin care and specializes in single-ingredient products. Nothing costs more than $20; most of it sells for less than $10. Products that contain skin-plumping, volume-adding products such as hyaluronic acid can be spendy. So, relying on the advice of a woman doing a fellowship in my dermatologist’s office, I decided to try The Ordinary’s Hyaluronic Acid 2% (1 ounce, $6.80, Sephora). I have been using it with their Vitamin C serum in the morning. My exercise buddy on Zoom remarked that I looked “fresh.”  That could be thanks to the Zoom filter.

FAR LEFT: I wasn’t mad about Hourglass’s new Vanish Airbrush Concealer ($34, available in more than 20 shades, Sephora) at first. I thought the liquid was too heavily pigmented, but I’m beginning to see the benefits of applying it more sparingly in the corners of the eyes and down around the nose. Its light-reflecting properties makes your eyes and face look more alive. NEAR LEFT: About two months ago, I was listening to a podcast on Girls of a Certain Age blog, featuring Goop beauty director Jean Godfrey-June. She had a down-to-earth approach to beauty and what it means to look your age. Godfrey swears by True Botanicals powder Vitamin C Booster ($90) for the raves she got from her friends about her skin. When added to your daily serum treatment or just mixed with water, it is touted to brighten and even skin tone. A 15 percent discount hasn’t yet been enough to push me over the edge. NEAR RIGHT: I’m tempted by Westman Atelier Super Loaded Tinted Highlight ($75, Goop), a multipurpose polish for eyes and cheeks  in soft rose. I already own the one in bronze gold, which I’ve been using for at least a year and still have plenty left, which kind of justifies the splurge. I think the rose color would work better now when my skin has that sallow look from too many days/hours spent inside.  RIGHT: I’m down to the last nibs of my favorite Burberry lipstick. Kosas’ Weightless Lip Color in Rosewater ($28, Violet Grey) looks a lot like it. And I bet I could use it as a blush, too.

LEFT: I loved Westman Atelier’s super-sheer Lit-Up Highlight Stick ($48, Violet Grey) until it melted in my purse one hot day last summer. I bought it from Barneys (sic transit gloria …) mostly because the guy behind the counter wasn’t pushy and once I gave the okay to put it on my face, I could immediately see my skin perk up from dull to slightly glowy despite overindulging in white wine the evening before.  RIGHT: I know I’ve sung Weleda’s Skin Food Original Ultra-Rich Cream ($18.99, Dermstore) praises before. It’s a terrific moisturizer (with fatty acids and Vitamin E) for hands, feet and elbows, but pssst, I use it on my face when I need extra moisture, which is almost always. (It follows my application of The Ordinary’s Vitamin C and hyaluronic acid). The aforementioned Godfrey-June said it was one of her favorites. (I knew I liked her.) And the calendula flower extract makes it smell divine.

—Janet Kelly

MyLittleBird often includes links to products we write about. Our editorial choices are made independently; nonetheless, a purchase made through such a link can sometimes result in MyLittleBird receiving a commission on the sale, whether through a retailer, an online store or Amazon.com.

HAIR, GLORIOUS hair. No?  Instead, many of us are looking at ourselves in the mirror with Cruella de Vil white streaks, faded-out color, overgrown bangs and straggly, sad locks. Except in a few states whose governors are daring to reopen beauty salons (among other businesses), hopes for groomed hair seem a distant prayer.  But that doesn’t mean we’ve stopped trying. My conversations (Zoom and e-mail) with friends usually include what hair-color products (L’Oreal, Madison Reed, etc.) we’re using, which shades we like and what results we’re getting. And then there are friends who are using nail scissors, kitchen knives, etc., to trim their too-long, out-of-shape cuts. Some are going to, er, greater lengths: A Chevy Chase, Maryland, woman said one of her neighbors had arranged for someone from a local salon to do $65 haircuts in her backyard. He couldn’t do shampoos, so people had to come with clean hair. In DC, according to Jeremy Buchanan from Salon One80, some salons are acting like speak-easies; you have to arrange covert visits.

Failing extreme measures, here’s what two pros had to say.

My hairdresser, Lu Marcus, who both colors and cuts my tresses at Pittsburgh’s Capristo Salon, called me last week to check in. I reported that I was using temporary, wash-out products to cover my growing gray roots and that my bangs were verging on unmanageable. Stay the course, she advised, with temporary, wash-out products like L’Oreal’s spray or with a powder you brush on.  When you buy color in a box from a drugstore, she said, you don’t know how long it has been sitting there and if or how the ingredients have degraded. You may get something that says the color is light, golden brown and then end up with red or magenta hair. Marcus’s rule of thumb: Do no harm. She notes: “We’re expecting lots of problems when we’re faced with fixing hair dye jobs gone wrong.”  She also told me not to touch my bangs.

Buchanan, my former colorist, who is selling customized color kits for clients, offers similar advice. “Just coloring gray is one thing, but to make it look like real hair, you have to apply at least two colors.” If you look at the head of a 12-year-old, for example, you’d see that hair is a myriad of shades. These over-the-counter color solutions can’t compete with the hundreds of shades available at a salon. “Hair looks very artificial when the color around the face is the same as it is on the ends.”

Almost two-inch roots and shapeless hair be damned. I’m leaving my distressed waves to their own devices except for spritzing the roots. As for some ways to camouflage the damage when I leave the house for a walk or participate in a Zoom or FaceTime event, I’m experimenting with headbands and hair wraps, jaunty caps, sun hats and sunglasses. Below are some I’m liking.

—Janet Kelly

LEFT: Forget baseball caps. I can’t think of a more fetching way to take attention away from your hair than wearing this Fiddler Fisherman Cap ($45, Nordstrom) with attitude. It’s made of a mix of linen and cotton with a rope trim around the crown. RIGHT: You’re already walking around the house (and outside) in your workout leggings, T-shirts and sneakers, so complete the picture with this lightweight, reversible Fringe Fighter Headband ($18, Lululemon, also available in pink, silver and white.). As well as helping doctors and nurses on the frontlines, headbands prevent you from constantly touching your face to sweep back bangs and keep sweat beads out of your eyes.

LEFT: Last summer I remember admiring the sun hat of a friend and thinking how good she looked. Her hair? What hair? On closer inspection it came to me—her hat was by Australian Helen Kaminski, whose flattering designs I’ve coveted for years. Definitely on the splurgey side. But think of all the money I’m saving from not getting my hair colored or cut. The  Kalola Foldable Raffia Hat is $200 at Nordstrom.  RIGHT: More like a head wrap, the Tasha Knot Pleat Headband ($24, Nordstrom) offers a solution for when you’re growing out your hair in a pandemic and can’t get a haircut. Available in several other colors and patterns, the knotted style gives a turban effect without the weight.

LEFT: I’m hoping isolation doesn’t last long enough for me to grow a pony tail. But if it does, I’d go for these lush, luxe Scrunchies ($39 for a pack of three, Violet Grey). They’re made from high-quality silk that won’t do damage to delicate hair. RIGHT: Wear J. Crew’s Palma Oversized Sunglasses ($69.50, also available in caramel, aqua and black) alone or with your mask, and no one will notice your hair.  These big, retro sunnies come with UV-protective lenses in a color that complements the frame.

MyLittleBird often includes links to products we write about. Our editorial choices are made independently; nonetheless, a purchase made through such a link can sometimes result in MyLittleBird receiving a commission on the sale, whether through a retailer, an online store or Amazon.com.

LEFT: Acqua di Parma’s Colonia Assoluta Eau de Cologne Spray ($110, Bluemercury) ranks highest on my list of favorite scents. Just spritzing this mix of spicy (cardamom and pepper) and citrusy notes (bergamot and tangerine) makes me happy and, yes, nostalgic for blissful summer days on the water. RIGHT: I’m craving comfort these days. You? Perhaps 15 minutes with Jane Inc.’s silk Eye Pillow ($24, Anthropologie) with mood-lifting lavender and soothing flax seed covering my eyes would spur my relaxation efforts—and even help me meditate (more on that later). Plus, I like the indigo pattern.

LEFT: I’m not going to fib.  The Miraculous Adventure of Edward Tulane  by Kate DiCamillo ($6.99 in paperback on Amazon) is a children’s book about a china rabbit. Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it. In last week’s New York Times Book Review, author Ann Patchett raved about how much this book and others by DiCamillo were “incredibly calming” and have changed her life. We’re never too old to learn lessons. RIGHT: Headspace is an app that purports to make meditation simple, helping people stress less, focus more and sleep better.  It’s downloaded to my phone, but I’ve yet to use it. Now may be the time. The company is offering two weeks free as a trial when you sign up for a $69.99/year subscription.

LEFT: Frequently washing your hands during this pandemic is a must, according to all the health experts. Although they have nothing to say about the effects of all that soap and water—dry, chapped, old-looking hands—here’s my solution: washable, reusable White Cotton Gloves (10 pairs for $20.99, Amazon). Slather on creams, lotions, ointments before you go to sleep. The gloves will help absorb the emollients while you’re getting your zzz’s, so you wake up to better-looking hands. RIGHT: Sweaty Betty is my go-to brand for exercise leggings.  They stay up and nicely lift your rear end. Now that I’m doing Pilates via Zoom, I’d like to have a mat instead of a bunchy beach towel. I’m tempted by SB’s Eco Yoga Mat ($70) even though it’s pricey. It’s thin, relatively lightweight (4 pounds), and each side has good grip, ensuring that you don’t slip.  The June bug green color is sold out at the moment, but it’s also available in charcoal.

LEFT: Until just a few years ago, when I read Deborah Needleman’s The Perfectly Imperfect Home, I didn’t know that the legendary Florentine apothecary Santa Maria Novella sold a home potpourri, a mixture of buds, leaves and flower petals. I’ve bought several baggies of it over the years, but now I’m fresh out. I’d like to have that slightly spicy, musky fragrance greet me again in my living room. This hand-embroidered Silk Pot Pourri Bag ($52) is fancier than the cellophane I’m used to, but an attractive way to store the contents. RIGHT: Living in Brussels in the late 1990s made me into a chocolate snob. A little cafe around the corner from my apartment sold Neuhaus confections, which I regularly consumed after my salade a chèvre chaud. It would be nice to have a Neuhaus treat again. Say, these  Champagne Truffles, 4 pieces ($13.90) in a petite pink gift box.

—Janet Kelly

MyLittleBird often includes links to products we write about. Our editorial choices are made independently; nonetheless, a purchase made through such a link can sometimes result in MyLittleBird receiving a commission on the sale, whether through a retailer, an online store or Amazon.com.

IF I KNEW that COVID-19 signaled the end of our species, I would handle things differently. For example, believing it to be temporary and wanting to avoid getting sick I am eating very healthy meals, healthier than usual, in hopes of boosting my immune system. But if I knew that in six months we’d all be dead I would go a different route, one involving chocolate babka, bagels and lox and Fritos and dip.

The not knowing is what’s getting me crazy. Will I get sick and die? Will anyone I love get sick and die? Will we all end up homeless? How bad will life be after this virus is gone? And for how long will it be gone before it comes roaring back next year? These questions haunt me, causing random outbursts of intense sobbing. The only good that has come out of nightmare is my discovery of the Netflix series “Schitt’s Creek.”

The show debuted in 2015 but I was never drawn to it, mostly because of the off-putting title. Who wants to spend time in or up shit’s creek, either with or without a paddle? But desperate times call for desperate measures, and so my husband and I tuned in to what has been a wildly popular show for six seasons and found out why. It is, simply put, hysterical. Each episode, which lasts only 20 minutes, is side-splitting, mostly due to the deadpan performances by the perfect cast.

Eugene Levy plays Johnny Rose, the patriarch of a super-rich family that is suddenly penniless. Like a reverse of “The Beverly Hillbillies,” this Canadian comedy follows the trials of Rose and his wife Moira (Catherine O’Hara), a former soap opera star, and their two spoiled-rotten grown children (Dan Levy, Annie Murphy) as they try to make do living in a crappy little motel in a nowhere town they happen to own. (Johnny bought it as a joke gift for his son years ago.) Character actor Chris Elliott plays the town’s mayor, appearing for the first time in a starring role and excelling at it.

So every night my quarantine partner and I eat our super-healthy meal, clean up after dinner and watch about 45 minutes of deeply depressing news, catching up on the current death rates, and the grim forecasts pertaining to our country’s financial downfall. Then, grabbing our only lifeline we switch to “Schitt’s Creek,” where we laugh away our cares for an hour or so and where we wish we lived, with or without a paddle.

—Andrea Rouda

Andrea Rouda blogs at The Daily Droid. 

FOR MONTHS government officials advised us we only needed to wear a mask if we were ill or caring for someone who was. But last week the jury was wobbling on whether the average person should wear a nonmedical face mask outside the house. Then on Friday the verdict came down from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, recommending Americans “wear nonmedical cloth face covering as a voluntary health measure.” Top doc Dr. Anthony Fauci chimed in saying that wearing face masks was a way to help stifle the spread of COVID-19.

No matter what we were hearing, some thought it might not be a bad idea to don face protection, particularly when going to the grocery store started to seem scary. Unfortunately, in addition to surgical masks, nonmedical-grade cloth masks were as scarce as toilet paper on the shelves of a lot of grocery stores. Unless you wanted to wait until mid-May or so.

There are plenty of instructions all over the web for how to make your own mask, such as this tutorial on making a pleated face mask with a handkerchief and hair tie. Fortunately, for the rest of us not so talented or inclined, we’re seeing a cottage industry spring up.

This weekend a group of friends was texting on a whole bunch of topics when someone mentioned she knew a graphic artist—Naomi Maiberg— who was making face masks in playful patterns and colors for $20 each. Someone sent around some examples, and everyone wanted to order one or more. She says in an e-mail,“I am not highly skilled or fast but getting better,” she says. While supplies last she’s including a hepa filter.

L.A.-based fashion brand Sanctuary has launched its Essential Lifestyle Masks for consumers. On its website the company says it’s using its resources and the profits of its lifestyle masks to produce over 5 million N95 masks to support the medical community.

Katie May makes masks out of their top-quality evening fabrics. For each one purchased, the bridal wear company will donate three utility masks to front-line workers in its Los Angeles community.

—Janet Kelly

Don’t underestimate the power of improvising. LEFT: Noticed on York Avenue on NYC’s Upper East Side, Lisa has expertly wrapped a long scarf around her mouth and nose, securing it with a knot around her neck and battening it down with a thick knit wool scarf. RIGHT: Bandanna Nanna-cy suits up for an excursion to the dog park and/or to Costco. / Photos / Nancy McKeon.

ABOVE: Pittsburgh-based graphic artist Naomi Maiberg started making masks for her family a couple of weeks ago, and now she has a backlog of orders. While supplies last, she includes a removable “hepa” filter; all have a flexible wire to mold to your face. There are at least eight patterns available at last glance. Each mask is $20. Contact her through Etsy.

ABOVE: LeighDeux offers a collection of headboards pillows, duvets and other furnishings for small spaces including dorms, apartments, and homes. The company is using it whimsical fabrics to make machine-washable microfiber masks (7″ x 3.5”). 100 percent of profits will be donated to Corona Relief. Available in Tanzania print (shown above) and four color choices (millennial pink, lavender, peacock and nero), the masks are $12 each at leighdeux.

Philadelphia Eagles fans who want this particular pattern (left) are out of luck. The Throwback eagles logo (right) is the only option available. Not a sporty girl? Other choices include mint polka dot and colorful hands above. Made from two layers of durable, breathable 100% cotton, the one-size-fits-all mask is $14 on Etsy ShopNikNaksByNik. Nik says they are “extremely slammed.” Allow 4-6 business days for orders.

ABOVE: Besides producing medical-grade masks, fashion label Sanctuary has begun making Essential Lifestyle Masks, available in disposable 5-pack sets for pre-order for $28. They’re expected to ship by April 15. The company notes that they will soon be producing individual, reusable masks.

LEFT: A little glam for the grocery store, the Katie May multi-layered Make It Fashion face mask ($35) is constructed of corded lace, a sparkle tulle underlay and delicate lace trim. RIGHT: Maison Modulare makes artisan masks of denim for $28, as well as fancier ones of jacquard and lace for $60. The model above is already sold out.

MyLittleBird often includes links to products we write about. Our editorial choices are made independently; nonetheless, a purchase made through such a link can sometimes result in MyLittleBird receiving a commission on the sale, whether through a retailer, an online store or Amazon.com.

Hum for happiness. / iStock

With stress and anxiety at possibly an all-time record in the Age of Covid-19, we’re rerunning Alexa Mergen’s 2017 post on humming, a mood lifter for tough times.  

IT’S simple; it takes only a few minutes and seems to promote health and harmony.

Humming turns the body into a musical instrument, creating vibrations that travel through spaces, such as nasal cavities. Like a hall monitor, humming keeps things moving to clear the way.

Studies reported in the New York Times show that humming “helps increase airflow between the sinus and nasal cavities, which could potentially help protect against sinus infections.” Mucus build-up leads to infection. That’s when your head feels dull and achey.

The musical aspect of humming may explain why it can be a mood lifter. We connect with another time and place by humming a nostalgic tune. Musicologist Joseph Jordania believes humming may be one of humans’ earliest means of communication, letting one another know they are safe.

As with singing, humming leads to a longer exhalation, which can be soothing. A humming breath sequence used in yoga, called brahmari, or bee breath, is said to deepen breathing and reduce anxiety. Practice the breath alone, where you might feel less self-conscious, or recruit a friend.

When I’ve led brahmari breathing in yoga classes, buzzing like bees proves so fun that people often smile. This exercise can delight children and — if you’re willing to hum like a hive with them—may distract them from a bad temper.

Want to try it? Stand or sit with a neutral, relaxed posture. Take two breaths, feeling rooted in the chair or on the ground. Gently place the thumbs in the ears and fingers over brow bone, closed eyelids and upper cheeks. Lips lightly sealed, inhale through the nostrils and then exhale through the nose and make the sound of the letter “m.”  Carry the sound throughout the exhalation. To sustain the buzzing, the exhalation needs to be intentional, but not forceful. Continue as long as you like, then pause to notice the stillness and quiet. Where do you feel sensation in the body?

A more familiar sound from yoga is “Om.” It should be a three-part vocalization — a-u-m — concluding in the “m” of a hum.

One study used brain imaging to measure the Om sound’s potential to stimulate auricular branches of the vagus nerve. The vagus nerve influences both the sympathetic and parasympathetic systems, touching in with multiple organs, including heart and stomach, as it wanders down from the brain stem through the body.

“Humming’s going to affect your vagus nerve and that’s going to affect your level of anxiety,” said West Virginia-based somatic movement therapist Lauren Wadsworth. She adds that humming may affect tissue as well.

“I use sound sometimes, though I don’t do it out loud,” Wadsworth says of humming silently as she works on a massage client. “I notice it will shift the density of the tissue.”

“Hum” is onomatopoeic—the word formed around the sound associated with it — and dates back to the 14th century. Wordless, humming appears simple. But as a form of vocal activation, it requires collaboration of both hemispheres of the brain, as speech does.

Try simple humming with one hand on the chest and one on the abdomen. Notice the vibrations. Use the senses of sound, touch and feeling to focus the mind for a few breaths.

Humming engages brain and body, bringing a sense of integration that can be calming. It’s as if we are attuned. This may help explain why people with autism are known to hum. When humming becomes repetitive and stereotyped, the activity can signal dementia.

“There’s something powerful about music, sounds and voice,” Wadsworth says. Who, what, when and how people hum taps into personality and biology.

The average adult human body is 50 to 75 percent water. “We know that sounds moves through water, it’s an incredibly resonant field,” Wadsworth points out. “So we become more resonant as we become more fluid.”

This resonance, she believes, can connect us not just with ourselves and other people but with a broader sense of belonging. “Our life on this planet is about water, so as soon as we become more fluid we become more resonant with all of life on this planet.”

Connecting is largely about effective communication which, for humans, means language. Beyond being an end in itself, humming can be used as a vocal warm-up, according to the American Academy of Otolaryngology. Begin with the nasal sound “m” and glide from a high to low pitch as if sighing. After speaking, humming can provide a vocal cool down: Focus on a tickling feeling in the nose.

Think there’s something melodious to your humming? Transform it into musical notation. Forbes reported on a smartphone app that scores sounds recorded into your mobile phone, including humming.

Whether you’re humming for health or harmony, consider keeping the crooning on the hush-hush. Like using a neti pot, humming to clear sinus passageways may best be practiced behind a closed door. And humming for happiness —outside of a yoga class—may wisely stay a solitary joy. Leave public humming to the birds and the bees.

—Alexa Mergen

WELL BEFORE Covid-19 came along— when I began working from home—I sometimes spent entire days in pjs. But that was also before friends and family wanted to get together for cocktails, share information about the virus and play catch up over video platforms. I wondered whether I could find pajamas that combined the comfort of sleepwear with the presentability warranted for a new style of communicating. My conclusion: Up my pajama game.

Below, some results of browsing around:

LEFT: I may just have to spring for these Daphne Pajamas ($99, Nordstrom) from Australian brand Chalmers. I love the prancing giraffes, and the cut of the top is so flattering I think I could pass muster when chatting virtually with my favorite 13-year-old. Psst: They also look similar to this very pricey one from Olivia Van Halle. RIGHT: I’m not a cat person, but if I were, I’d pounce on this Karen Mabon Pajama Set ($195, Shopbop). A patch pocket, contrasting piping and long sleeves with button cuffs give the lightweight charmeuse jammies a style that’s a cut above. Retro enough to be right at home in a mid-century Slim Aarons photograph of poolside lounging.

LEFT: These plush Harbor Pajamas ($52.80, during Nordstrom’s 40% off sale) mix practical and comfortable with lace details for sitting pretty on conference calls. They’re from Flora Nikrooz, a label known for its handmade lingerie and sleepwear. CENTER: For a more tailored look, sleep, work or watch Netflix in Recliner’s sporty jersey Classic PJ Set ($115, also available in black, blush, cool blue and two shades of gray). Bonus points: You can mix sizes for tops and bottoms, say, a medium or large pant with a small top. RIGHT: This cute pink and black Dots Slouchy PJ Set ($155, Shopbop) in a stretchy knit fabric ups the presentability factor over your ratty sweatpants and sweatshirt.

ABOVE: Let’s talk elegant at-home looks. Our art director extraordinaire Kathy Legg favors these exuberantly floral Dorothy Draper pjs (she prefers them to wearing a robe) she purchased a couple of years ago at the ritzy Greenbrier. When asked what she liked about them, she answered, “I think it’s just the whole Dorothy Draper thing and the connection to the Greenbrier,” she says. “The pajama floral is in a bathroom just off the Windsor Club wing. It’s a really large lounge and the orchids on a black background are on all the walls, even in the stalls. It’s really quite a spectacle.” Alas, because the Greenbrier is closed, we were unable to verify whether these fab pajamas are still available.

LEFT: I bought Hello Mello’s Leisure Time Collection Cafeology Lounge Pants ($19.99) at a hospital gift shop—who knew? Anyway, they’re stretchy and uber-comfy as good for lounging around as for sleeping. They come in a variety of other fun print, and you can pair them with equally cozy Dream Tees ($16.99). The pants and shirts each are prettily packaged in a drawstring pouch in case you wanted to give them to a good friend. RIGHT: Wearing Serena & Lily’s Positano Linen Pajamas ($128, take 20 percent off with code ATHOME, also available in blush, sage and French blue) would help me fantasize I’m in the Italian Riviera back in the day—like last summer. Thumbs up for linen, which keeps you comfortable awake or asleep. Not the best option for video conferencing if wrinkles pose a problem.

LEFT: This is not a pajama, but it’s also not your mother’s house dress. Look casually elegant but composed and comfortable in this all-cotton Sariah Caftan ($125, Goop) whether you’re reading on the sofa or going outside to pick up your Amazon package. When we’re allowed back at the beach, it would make an excellent coverup. CENTER: We’ve featured Zen Moon Classic Pajamas ($180) before. But we’re wild about the flowy silhouette of the made-in-Bali set of wide-sleeved top and cropped culotte bottom in silky bamboo. Swan around in it all day and get your zzzz’s in it at night. RIGHT: If you happened to be on a business call, few would guess that the colorful top of these Natori Dynasty Printed Pajamas (reduced from $160 to $120, Saks Fifth Avenue) is part of a pj set. And, at the end of the day, just because we’re hibernating, we can still make a meal an occasion. Just add a pair of marabou slippers to dress for dinner.

—Janet Kelly

MyLittleBird often includes links to products we write about. Our editorial choices are made independently; nonetheless, a purchase made through such a link can sometimes result in MyLittleBird receiving a commission on the sale, whether through a retailer, an online store or Amazon.com.