IT SEEMS paradoxical that those embarrassing old hearing aids we used to dread have become virtually invisible at the same time that everyone, young and old alike, seems to have some device or other sticking proudly out of their ears!

Nonetheless . . . hearing, or not, is a big issue, as Well-Being columnist Mary Carpenter pointed out Tuesday in a post that starts off with NPR’s Mary Louise Kelly’s book It. Goes. So. Fast and her hearing loss at the relatively young age of 43. Loss of hearing has been, quite understandably, linked to increased isolation, but less intuitively (until you connect the dots, as LittleBird Mary did) to an increased likelihood of dementia and other possibilities of age. Good reason to run out to the audiologist, and this time follow up!

A carafe and tumbler from Petra Palumbo.

While you’re out, look around for a gift for the mom in your life, where it’s your own mother or your daughter or . . . whoever. (Yes, Mother’s Day is May 12.) But first, you can take a look at the list of lists of gifts that Janet Kelly has put together. We’re already ordered the David Austin roses from Bouqs for . . . ourselves.

Speaking of flowers, did you happen to notice that yesterday was Naked Gardening Day? Green Acre columnist Stephanie Cavanaugh did. But she also toured us through a more circumspect environment, the magnificent Beatrix Farrand gardens at Dumbarton Oaks in Washington DC.

Two surprise posts last week were Kitchen Detail, wherein Victoria Sackett, a Nancy Pollard colleague, believably extolled the greatness of cheddar cheese from the University of Washington state creamery that comes in a . . . can.

The other surprise was a visit by Valerie Monroe to the land of dandruff, which she memorably called the lipstick-on-your-teeth of scalp problems.

Val will be back in your inbox tomorrow with How Not to F*ck Up Your Face’s take on insane skincare rituals for young girls in the age of TikTok. The rest of the crew will fall into line after that.

Ciao for now!

THIS PAST WEEK LittleBird Mary Carpenter, our Well-Being columnist, explained why the world stinks, meaning she tackled the ever-widening world of scent—often in places where we don’t want it (take that, Bloomingdale’s!). And for some people, Mary explained, it’s more than a simple annoyance.

When we’re not facing up to artificial substances, it seems we’re injecting them into ourselves (and paying good money to do so). Yes, we’re taking about facial fillers, or at least How Not to F*ck Up Your Face columnist Val Monroe was. While she herself is “fairly filler-phobic,” Val consulted with experts who deal with the stuff. Her column is not a screed against fillers; rather, it contains guidelines to getting them done correctly (and, more important, not incorrectly).

Snowdrops (Galanthus elwesii), left, from the White Flower Farm website, and blue Muscari (grape hyacinth), right, from the Burpee website.

Speaking of doing things correctly, or at least advantageously, we had a trio of other posts that offered timely advice. From LittleBird Janet Kelly, an array of spring clothing in the soft blues that are washing over the season. LittleBird Stephanie Cavanaugh devoted her Green Acre column to “minor bulbs,” the little jewels of early spring that deftly step aside as your garden comes back to life.

The last, though hardly the least, was Kitchen Detail’s Nancy Pollard, who marked her transformation from simple chocoholic to a true chocophile. And she presented an itinerary, citing “bean to bar” chocolates from all over, to guide the rest of us. (Oh, what a hardship!)

And news of another kind: This week marks the beginning of MyLittleBird’s newsletter on Substack, where you can find so many cool columns.

By Nancy McKeon

NO NEED TO go Full Kelly tomorrow (with apologies to LittleBird Janet). There are more flattering shades of green to be had, in everything from toasters to tunics (just ask Emma Stone, who wowed with an icy-pale green gown at the Oscars).

Here’s a weekend helping of the many things out there.

You know you’ve been meaning to get these: Barbour’s Wilton Wellingtons, $100 at Nordstrom.com. They come in Olive (shown), also Navy and Black.

Celebrate your inner Boho with Sinna stemless wine glasses, shown in Guacamole (also available in Clear), 4 for $64 at Anthropologie.

Who says a toaster can’t be Pastel Green? Certainly not Smeg, which offers its 1950s retro-style two-slice and four-slice toasters in a host of colors, including Pastel Pink, Red, Matte Black, and a metallic Rose Gold. The two-slicers are $199.95 (shown) to $239.95 (metallic) at Nordstrom. (And a toaster is simply not the level of commitment that having a bright red retro Smeg refrigerator would be.)

For reusable (but not forever) table settings, these die-cut paper leaf placemats are neat, 12 to a package, $26.50 from Caspari.

I can’t wait for a gift-giving opportunity: This Palazzo Foil Metallic Wrapping Paper in green and gold will probably outshine the gift. It’s from Caspari. $10.99 per 6-foot roll.

Setting a spring table couldn’t be easier. Faye dessert plates come in mint green, also  lilac and peach (which features a sly snail sitting on a scallion). They’re $18 each at Anthropologie, so you can mix or match.

Olive Green is a luscious neutral in the hands of midcentury design master Gianfranco Frattini. His ginormous Marconi 4-seater sofa (105 inches long) in tufted velvet is $2,999 at CB2.com. There’s also a 3-seater Marconi (a mere 81½ inches) for $2,499.

Indoors or out, the 13-inch-tall tole Pagoda Lantern in Apple Green holds a tealight or pillar candle (the sides are glass so the flame won’t blow out). It also comes in Forest Green, Berry Red, and White With Gold Trim and is $158 from one of our favorite UK retailers, Mrs. Alice. Mrs. Alice also has 9-inch-tall Mini Lanterns, sold by the pair, in Midnight Blue, Berry Red, White With Gold Trim, and Forest Green, $95 to $103 for a pair.

A quick jolt of spring: this cheap and cheerful Mini Bumper Crossbody Tote, from A New Day, $25 at Target.

Depending on your commitment to green, Schumacher’s Woodland Leopard pillow in Emerald velvet might make it onto your Wish List. It’s $538.50 through Decorators Best.

Lip-plumping gloss is translucent but comes in many shades of daring (with names like Heat Sensor and Hazard and Violet Beta). This, of course, is Lime Green. $24 at MAC.

When my pie comes out great, it’s thanks to Chef Jim Dodge’s careful instructions. My version here shows that I pay more attention to the top than to the edges, which can be a bit raggedy. / MyLittleBird photo.

By Nancy McKeon

NOT BEING a numbers person, I have no particular connection to Pi Day, the annual celebration of the mathematical constant π, or pi, March 14, or 3.14.*

I do, however, have a connection to pie, Jim Dodge’s Harvest Apple Pie in particular, which I’ve been making since he was at the New England Culinary Institute and we published his recipe in the Washington Post Food section. It always tastes great, and it often looks great as well (it’s my fault when it doesn’t, not his).

In his original recipe, Dodge, who was a hotel guy turned chef guy (his family opened its first hotel in New Hampshire in 1794!), called for some interesting steps, all of which make sense when you think about them. Unlike cookie-dough recipes, which call for softened butter, most pie-crust recipes call for cold butter. Dodge goes one better: He has you cut the butter up into small pieces and then freeze them for a while before proceeding. And the flour? He has you freeze that too. I work and stretch the hard, cold butter into the cold flour with my fingers until there are only flakes of butter, dusted with the flour, to be felt.

Dough likes to be cold! And when the pockets of cold fat in the pie-crust dough hit the hot oven, boom! The collision of hot and cold makes for a crust that will separate into the most delicate layers, rising high above the apples.

And yes, the apples. In the recipe as it appears on Dodge’s website, he calls for early-crop apples; I’ve used all types. But the secret of this pie is in the slicing. Rather than slim wedges, each apple gets cut into wedges and then cut crosswise to make stubby chunks of apple. Piled high in the center of the bottom crust, with the top crust lightly draped over them, the apple pieces give the pie height and heft.

Enough. Here are the recipes for the pie crust and the apple filling, as they appear on Dodge’s website, chefjimdodge.com. Don’t be intimidated by the length of the recipes: Dodge is simply laying things out very precisely.

Flaky Pie Pastry

Ingredients

• 1 cup plus 2 tablespoons unbleached all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting
• ½ teaspoon sugar
• 1/8 teaspoon coarse salt
• ½ cup (1 stick) unsalted European-style butter, or ¼ cup (½ stick) butter and ¼ cup lard or shortening, cold
• 3 tablespoons cold water

Instructions

1. Place the flour, sugar and salt in a large bowl and blend with your fingertips. Cut the butter into thin ½-inch chips and add to the bowl. Toss the mixture with your hands until each chip is coated with flour.
2. Turn onto a broad work surface. Roll out until the butter chips have turned into long flakes; use a flexible scraper to gently remove pieces that stick to the pin or board and coat them with flour.
3. Return the mixture to the bowl. Sprinkle it with water and blend with a large rubber spatula or kitchen spoon until the water has been absorbed, about 15 strokes. Dust the top lightly with flour, then press the mixture down into the bowl—4 or 5 gentle pushes will press everything together.
4. Sprinkle the work surface with flour and turn the dough out onto it. Dust the rolling pin generously with flour. Dust the dough with flour and roll it into a rectangle about ¼ inch thick. The dough will be loose, but fold the long edges over to meet in the center. Give the package a turn so the long way runs side to side. Roll out, fold and turn as before until the dough begins to hold together, usually 2 more times.
5. Fold over the corners and press into a 6-inch round. The dough can be rolled out at once or wrapped and refrigerated. If chilled, let it rest at room temperature until soft enough to roll.
6. Place the round on your lightly floured work surface and dust the top with flour. Roll out into a 13-inch circle. Brush off any flour and roll the circle up loosely on the pin a little more than halfway, brushing off flour underneath. Slide the pie dish underneath it and unroll the pin over it, centering the circle.
7. Gently push the dough down into the corners at the bottom of the dish, then firmly up against the sides without stretching the dough (this is important).
8. Make the border fairly even all around (it doesn’t have to be perfect) by trimming any excess with scissors and using these scraps to patch any skimpy places (drops of cold water will seal the seams). Tuck the border under itself to make the edge even with the rim.
9. Finish the border by fluting (poke the tip of a finger into the dough on one side and pinch it on the other side, making a V; repeat right next to the V and so forth around the border) or impressing an edging with the tines of a fork.
10. Chill for 20 to 30 minutes.
11. For crisp pastry under custard pies, the shell must be fully baked before filling. Heat the oven to 400 degrees.
12. To keep the dough from shrinking and puffing as it bakes, it must be held in place for the first 2/3 of baking. Cut 2 sheets of foil or parchment paper about 15 inches long. Lay them in the dish at right angles. Fill the shell to the rim with metal pie weights, dried beans, rice or a combination–you’ll need at least 5 cups (7 is ideal). As you pour in the weights, press them firmly down into the corners at the bottom of the dish and up against the sides; also fill every V of fluting. Bake in the center of the oven for 20 minutes, then carefully lift out the foil or paper and weights (save them for next time). Continue baking, checking after 3 to 4 minutes to make sure the pastry isn’t puffing up. If it is, prick the bubbles with a fork. Continue baking, checking again a few minutes later for puffing, until the pastry is golden all over, 10 to 15 minutes in all. Cool if not filling at once.

PastryHarvest Apple Pie

For the apple filling

• 6 large firm early-crop apples
• ½ cup sugar
• ¼ teaspoon ground allspice
• 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1 tablespoon tapioca flour or arrowroot
• 1 recipe Jim’s Flaky Pie Pastry (see above), chilled and ready to go

For glazing the top

• 1 large egg white, beaten in a small bowl just until smoothly broken up
• 1 teaspoon sugar

Preheat oven to 425 degrees F and set the rack on the lowest level.

Preparing the apples: Peel the apples and cut them in half. Use a melon baller to remove the cores. Cut each half into three wedges and then cut across the wedges, slicing each into thirds. Thoroughly blend the sugar, spices, and tapioca or arrowroot in the mixing bowl, and toss with the apples, coating them evenly. Press a piece of plastic wrap onto the apples to make an airtight covering, and set aside.

Lining the pie pan: Remove the dough from the refrigerator and massage through the plastic for several minutes, just until it is pliable enough to roll out. Divide it in half, and chill one half. Sprinkle your work surface and the top of the dough lightly with flour, and start rolling it into a circle that is to be 10 inches across and about 1/8 inch thick. Chef Jim says it is quite all right for you to roll the pin back and forth, as long as you do not roll over the edges. As you roll, lift and swish the dough on the counter to keep the bottom well-floured. Fold the circle in half and pick it up; brush off excess flour, and lay the dough in the pie pan with the fold at the center. Open the dough out to fill the pan, then lift the edges to coax it down into the pan, pressing it so that it lines the pan tightly.

In go the apples: Empty the apples into the crust using a rubber spatula to be sure that all the juices and seasonings go with them. Push them around so they are nicely arranged with a slight dome at the center. Brush the edges of the dough, where it rests on the edge of the pan, with the egg white. Roll the second piece of dough as the first; fold it and drape it over the apples; unfold and process the edges together to seal them, actually lifting the two pieces gently in your fingers to press them together, and at the same time folding them under to make a 1-inch lip all around. Then push the edges up to make an upstanding rim that does not overhang the sides; otherwise the crust will droop during baking. Crimp or flute the edges by pressing the index finger on one hand against the inside rim of the dough while pressing the dough lightly around that finger from the outside rim, using the thumb and index finger of your other hand. Continue around the dough at intervals of about 1 inch. Brush the center of the dough—but not the crimped edge—with more egg white, and sprinkle on the sugar. Note that the edge cooks first and fastest, and the egg white and sugar would cause too much browning.

Manufacturing note: Chef Jim prefers egg white to water for sealing the crusts together since water could produce steam, which would pry the edges apart.

Baking the pie: About 1 hour in all, starting at 450 degrees F. With a sharp knife, poke four neat holes for steam release in the top of the crust—not in the downward slopes where the juices could seep out. Bake in the lower level of the preheated oven for 10 minutes, then rotate the pie a half turn and reduce the heat to 375 degrees F. Continue baking 45 to 50 minutes more, until the top is golden brown.

When is it done? The apples should be tender when poked with a cake tester or small sharp knife through the steam holes in the crust. Any juices that bubble out should be slightly thickened and clear.

Remove the pie to a wire rack and let cool for an hour before cutting and serving.

*For those of us who snoozed through that class, π is the ratio of a circle’s circumference in relation to its diameter. It comes down to 3.14, and the decimal places go on forever. But this footnote won’t.

Democratic senator from Arizona Kyrsten Sinema leaves the Capitol on May 11, 2020. / Photo by Michael Reynolds/EPA-EFE/Shutterstock.

ONE OF the more colorful creatures in Congress has decided to step aside. Not Mitch McConnell—we said colorful.

No, Arizona senator Kyrsten Sinema announced this week that she would not be running for reelection to the Senate. A Democrat who turned Independent, Sinema flew her freak flag proudly, sporting candy-colored wigs, dresses that sprouted flouncy sleeves, and thigh-high boots.

Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, and a kiss is still a kiss. But a skin-tight metallic sheath in the halls of Congress? What’s that? Well, don’t ask us. Here’s what the New York Times’s chief fashion critic,  Vanessa Friedman, had to say a couple of years ago.

Senator Kyrsten Sinema may have been in Europe recently on a fund-raising trip and out of reach of the activists who have dogged her footsteps, frustrated with her obstruction of President Biden’s social spending bill. But despite the fact her office has been keeping her itinerary under wraps, were those protesters able to follow her overseas, there’s a good chance they would be able to find her.

Not just because of her political theater. Ever since she was sworn in to the Arizona House of Representatives in 2005, Ms. Sinema has always stood out in a crowd. And as Ms. Sinema’s legislative demands take center stage (along with those of Senator Joe Manchin, the other Biden Bill holdout) her history of idiosyncratic outfits has taken on a new cast.

As Tammy Haddad, former MSNBC political director and co-founder of the White House Correspondents Weekend Insider, said of the senator, “If the other members of Congress had paid any attention to her clothing at all they would have known she wasn’t going to just follow the party line.”

The senior senator from Arizona — the first woman to represent Arizona in the Senate, the first Democrat elected to that body from that state since 1995, and the first openly bisexual senator — has never hidden her identity as a maverick. In fact, she’s advertised it. Pretty much every day.

Indeed, it was back in 2013, when she was sworn in to the House of Representatives, that Elle crowned Ms. Sinema “America’s Most Colorful Congresswoman.” Since she joined the Senate, she has merely been further embracing that term. Often literally.

Notice was served at her swearing-in on Jan. 3, 2019, when Ms. Sinema seemed to be channeling Marilyn Monroe in platinum blond curls, a white sleeveless pearl-trimmed top, rose-print pencil skirt and stiletto heels: She was never going to revert to pantsuit-wearing banality.

 

Instead, she swept in as a white-cape-dressed crusader for Donald Trump’s first impeachment trial, in January 2020. Modeled a variety of Easter-egg colored wigs — lavender, pink, green — to demonstrate, her spokeswoman Hannah Hurley told The Arizona Republic in May of last year, a commitment to “social distancing in accordance with best practices, including from salons.” (Ms. Hurley specified the wig cost $12.99.) Sported pompom earrings, a variety of animal prints, neoprene, and assorted thigh-high boots. And presided over the Senate on Feb. 23 of this year while wearing a hot pink sweater with the words “Dangerous Creature” on the front, prompting Mitt Romney to tell her she was “breaking the internet.”

Her reply: “Good.”

To dismiss that as a stunt rather than a foreshadowing is to give Ms. Sinema less credit than she is due. “She’s saying, ‘I can wear what I want and say what I think is important and I’m going to have a lot of impact doing it,’” Ms. Haddad said. “She is unencumbered by the norms of the institution.”

Lauren A. Rothman, an image and style accountability coach in Washington who has been working with members of Congress for 20 years, said it’s part of a growing realization among politicians that “you are communicating at all times, because a clip on social media can be even more meaningful than something on national TV.” And that means “thinking at all times about what story you are telling with your nonverbal tools, which means your style.”

As Washington has begun to realize. Conversation with various insiders and Congressologists offered theories on the wardrobe that suggested it was either: a sleight-of-hand, meant to distract from Ms. Sinema’s journey from progressive to moderate to possibly Republican-leaning; or meant to offer reassurance to her former progressive supporters that she wasn’t actually part of the conservative establishment.

Richard Ford, a professor at Stanford Law School and the author of “Dress Codes: How the Laws of Fashion Made History,” said he thought her image was designed to telegraph: “I’m a freethinker, my own person, not going along with convention, so even though I’m a part of the Democratic Party I am representing your interests, not theirs.” (As it happens Ms. Sinema is featured in the book as an example of a woman “unapologetically” bringing a more feminine approach to dress to “the halls of power.”)

Whatever the interpretation, however, no one expressed any doubt that she knew exactly what she was doing. To pay attention is simply to acknowledge what Ms. Haddad called “a branding exercise” being done “at the highest level.” Either way, the senator’s office did not respond to emails on the subject.

Senator Sinema in non-traditional silver talking with Senator Thom Tillis in traditional dark suit in 2020. / Photo by J. Scott Applewhite/Associated Press.

After all, said Hilary Rosen, the vice chair of the political consultancy SKDKickerbocker, who has known Ms. Sinema since 2011, the senator “used to dress more like the rest of us, in simple dresses” and the occasional suit jacket. But, Ms. Rosen said, “I’ve seen a real shift in the last few years, and I think they way she dresses now is a sign of her increasing confidence as a legislator. She’s not afraid to wear her personality on her sleeve, and that’s rare in a politician. They usually dress for ambiguity.”

There are few places, after all, more hidebound when it comes to personal style than Congress, which long had a dress code that included the caveat that congresswomen were not supposed to show their shoulders or arms in the building. The House changed its rules in 2017, but the Senate hewed to tradition until Ms. Sinema’s election; the rules were actually changed for her.

According to Jennifer Steinhauer’s book “The Firsts: the Inside Story of the Women Reshaping Congress,” Senator Amy Klobuchar, the senior member on the Senate Rules Committee, went to leadership before the last swearing-in to request the rules be reconsidered to reflect the modern world. She knew Ms. Sinema, a triathlete, had a penchant for showing her arms, and believed the new senator “needed to be allowed to wear what she wanted” in her new workplace. Some male senators grumbled, but acceded. (In the end, Ms. Sinema compromised by carrying a silver faux-fur stole to cover her shoulders.)

But for women, Capitol Hill is traditionally a land of Talbots and St. John’s; of dressing to camouflage yourself in the group so it is your words that stand out, not your clothes. As Mr. Ford said, “Women are always subject to heightened scrutiny and criticism,” and in Washington this is even more true.

From the “Statement Sleeves” exhibit at The Museum at FIT. Left, from Madame Grès, a navy blue silk taffeta evening gown, circa 1980. Gift of Mrs. Mildred Hilson. / Right, from Rudi Gernreich, a black and cream wool dress, circa 1967. Gift of Ruth Ford. / On the front: from the FIT “Statement Sleeves” exhibition. All copyright © The Museum at FIT.

By Nancy McKeon

WHEN SOMEONE mentions sleeves to me, my first thought is “short or long?” Not very evolved, especially in the past few years when, as Janet Kelly points out, designers and manufacturers have been using sleeves to carry a lot of their fashion message.

FIT, New York’s Fashion Institute of Technology, has a current exhibit that allows those of us who are behind the curve to swot up on sleeve action. The exhibit also shows how many things old are new again: Designers themselves acknowledge they’re always looking through history to be inspired by old ideas that can be made new and now.

But rather than hew to a chronology of sleeves, Colleen Hill, the museum’s curator for clothing and accessories, has focused on variations, which has the benefit of showing how ideas—and lotsa fabric—ebb and flow over time.

In usual FIT fashion, the “Statement Sleeves” exhibit keeps it simple, with emphasis on the clothing, the detail, the execution. In fact, the opening Fundamental Forms installation, see below, shows eight garments (one a gentleman’s robe) all in black, the better to show some of the basic sleeve treatments: the bell sleeve, the bishop sleeve, the puffed sleeve, the slit, the kimono-inspired, and . . . the detachable sleeve (who knew?).

Once the fundamentals are out of the way, the exhibit goes on to show how the shapes have been embellished, modernized, or simply exaggerated over the years. The nearly 80 garments on view are from the museum’s permanent collection, the majority being displayed for the first time.

Fundamental Forms. From left to right: dress by Madame Grès, 1978 (angel wing sleeves); dress by Yves Saint Laurent, circa 1968 (bell); dress by Ossie Clark, circa 1970 (bishop); dress by Ann Demeulemeester, fall 2001 (batwing); man’s robe, circa 1925 (kimono); evening coat by Vionnet, 1938 (lantern); jacket, circa 1895 (leg-of-mutton); suit by Fendi, circa 1993 (raglan). Copyright © The Museum at FIT.

A portion of the Performance & Purpose section, all with removable sleeves. From left to right: corset, circa 1770; dress (one sleeve on, one off), circa 1840; dress, circa 1933. Copyright © The Museum at FIT.

Left, two styles from the Asymmetrical & Mismatched section of the exhibition: a fall 1990 suit by Christian Francis Roth (left) and a circa 1973 dress by Stephen Burrows (right). Copyright © The Museum at FIT. Right, designs in the Tucks and Ruffles section of the exhibition. From left to right: blouse by Givenchy, circa 1952; dress by Courrèges, circa 1969; dress by Ellery, 2016. Copyright © The Museum at FIT.

A selection from Tucks and Ruffles. From left to right: evening coat by Mae and Hattie Green, circa 1928; dress by Thierry Mugler, fall 1979; ensemble by Armani, 1982. Copyright © The Museum at FIT.

“Statement Sleeves,” The Museum at FIT, 227 West 27th Street, New York, NY 10001, fitnyc.edu; through August 24, 2024. The museum is open Wednesday through Friday, noon to 8pm; Saturdays and Sundays, 10am to 5pm. 

Style icon Iris Apfel was an inspiration for Zenni Optical, above, at age 100. The company designed a whole line of eyeglass frames based on her I-know-who-I-am style. / Photo from the Zenni Optical website.

MyLittleBird posted the following appreciation of the dramatic style icon Iris Apfel, famous for her oversized “owlish” eyeglasses, on the occasion of her 100th birthday. She died on Friday, March 1, 2024, in her Palm Beach, Florida, home.

By Nancy McKeon

ON SUNDAY, August 29, 2021, Iris Apfel turned 100. If the name doesn’t ring a bell, just picture an older (truly older) woman with short, sometimes spiky white hair, red lips and enormous eyeglasses playing to the cameras that have been trained on her for the past 15 or 20 years.

Apfel clearly disagrees with Bauhaus architect Ludwig Mies van der Rohe’s style edict. To her, less isn’t more. No, no, more is more. More loops of chunky necklaces, more bangles marching up her arm, more toys in her apartment. And more commercial endeavors that have kept her in Bakelite beads since she and her late husband, Carl, sold their esteemed fabric house, Old World Weavers. (Apfel is behind a “Zentennial” collection of eyeglass frames as bold as her own for Zenni Optical. There is an Iris Apfel Barbie doll. She recently put together four collections of home goods for Lowe’s, including “Palm Beach in Your Backyard” and “Modern Maximalism.”) And there’s a makeup mini collection (lipstick, plus pearl-trimmed pots of eyeshadow and rouge in a little red keepsake case) in collaboration with Edward Bess.

From the Iris Apfel Zentennial Collection for Zenni Optical:
LEFT: “Good to Be Square” frames, available in solid green, plus Serengeti and Swirl patterns, are $49.95 ($66.90 to turn nonprescription lenses into blue-light blockers).
RIGHT: “The Iris Apfel” signature frame comes in black and a red crackle pattern ($45.95, blue-light $62.90). All the Zentennial styles come with a solid tri-fold case and lens cloth, both special editions to mark the occasion. (There’s also a Zentennial soft pouch that doubles as a lens cloth.)

Despite the #IrisYourCloset hashtag, Apfel doesn’t wish to visit her style on anyone. In interviews over and over she has told women young and old that she does what she feels is right for her; we have to do what we feel is right for us.

And we’re doing just that! Just look at “Billie” (below left), the 93-year-old shopper my friend Jane met while wandering the cosmetics aisle of a southern Maryland Walmart (Jane was wandering, Billie clearly knew what she was there for). And the exuberantly dressed woman (below right) I encountered while she and her gentleman friend wandered the Upper East Side in search of “a cocktail lounge” (he said he’d settle for a bar).

LEFT: “Billie” is more than a match for the cosmetics at the Prince Frederick, Maryland, Walmart, where my friend Jane encountered her. Note the silver Birkenstocks! “Surely the most stunning female in Calvert County,” says Jane. Amen. / Photo by Jane Firor.
RIGHT: Thirsty on the Upper East Side pre-pandemic, this colorful couple were searching for a place to stop for a drink. / MyLittleBird photo.

Ari Seth Cohen has made something of a cottage industry out of recognizing and promoting stylish older women, to wit his Advanced Style blog and Instagram account plus a 2014 documentary (available in Amazon Prime Video) and two books, Advanced Style and Advanced Style: Older & Wiser. 

Ari Seth Cohen’s inspiring Advanced Style: Older & Wiser and the original Advanced Style.

But Cohen’s not alone any more than Apfel is. Check out Judith Boyd’s Instagram account StyleCrone (“Aging with hats, style, and the mysteries of yoga”). Also blogger (and “positivity model”) Cathi Rae, Karena at Style Begins at Sixty (a more casual approach to dressing), and of course Kim France’s Girls of a Certain Age site.

A new friend recently expressed surprise that MyLittleBird seemed to be so focused on what “beautiful people” are thinking about.

Well, yes, we are focused on beautiful people: you.

Women who haven’t abandoned personal style, whether chic or exuberant or just-try-that-with-me, all images from Ari Seth Cohen’s 2016 book, Advanced Style: Older & Wiser.

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. We are also an  Amazon Associate.

The Cavanaugh Hanukkah bush that morphs magically every year into a Christmas tree. / Photo by Stephanie Cavanaugh.

By Stephanie Cavanaugh

MY PRINCE has always been a pain in the butt to buy gifts for. His closet is stuffed with handsome clothes. He has no hobbies or collections. Splashes his face with alcohol. Reads the newspaper but has no patience for books. Hates computers and anything techie. He doesn’t cook—though he does a bang-up job of washing dishes. 

What do you get a guy like that?

A couple of decades ago, I said, Let’s each write a list of 100 things we’d like to have. I figures this was a way to solve the problem forever. Just fill in the blanks. 

I merrily scribbled mine, including a Cuisinart food processor, a KitchenAid mixer with pasta attachments, Crayola-colored tights (for a flash of color under my black skirts, black pants), Shalimar (for a sniff of my mom), and a private island in the Caribbean. I was stretching a little at the end. 

What did he include? My own comb.

And that was all he wrote. I swear, you can ask Baby. (I think that was the year she bought him a compass that was made somewhere in Asia; the instructions said something like, If the direction seems wrong, shake it and try again. It was the Magic 8 Ball of compasses.) 

I never thought I’d see the day when I didn’t want stuff, when my little eyes didn’t light up at ribboned boxes, treats. Cuffs that sparkle, cashmere anything, fancy kitchen gear. All of those older friends who insisted we not give them anything but food or wine. I just could not imagine, and felt so cheap for, showing up to some holiday or event empty-handed—and they actually seemed grateful to get nothing!

Now I completely understand why. We don’t need a damn thing, particularly this year, with the passing of older sister Jeanie and adding half the contents of her condo to the already near overwhelming contents of this house. 

When my mom died, many years ago now, her things were divided between the three of us sisters. Now they’ve been divided again between the two leftovers. Add to that haul Jeanie’s collections, and all those gifts from me to her that I would have given to myself. (Which is the way I give things: If you don’t like it, I’ll keep it.) 

So, this year the Prince and I are getting each other nothing for Christmas. We did the same for Hanukkah. We’ve also canceled birthday gifts and will just go out for a grand dinner on our anniversary.

No gifts! What a relief. Well, except for a new pair of secateurs. He owes me snippers that are all mine (mine mine) not to be touched by Princely fingers. Kept sharp and shiny—right where I last put them. Used for nothing but snipping my plants. 

This does not let Baby off the hook. She has a fine knack for ferreting out little luxuries that still give me a thrill, like the peacock-feather boa spotted in New Orleans, the Victorian-style black birdcage for the budgies, Bonnie and Cooper, and my prized MacKenzie-Childs kettle, all black-and-white checks and Alice in Wonderland charm. This year Baby, with a financial assist from the Prince, gave me a class in framing for my birthday, at which I utterly failed, though I now know how to order a mat and frame online. 

What more do I need? I have a house that I love, my garden, my books, and best of all my wonderful family and friends. 

And that, as they say, is a (feathery boa) wrap. 

An installation view of “Mood of the Moment: Gaby Aghion and the House of Chloé” at the Jewish
Museum, NY, October 13, 2023-February 18, 2024. / Photo by Dario Lasagni. Image courtesy the
Jewish Museum, NY.

By Nancy McKeon

THE CLOTHES we put on our back when we go out into the world are “signifiers,” markers of our social status, our personality, announcements of our sexual availability (or not), the codes of our tribal membership. All true, but yada-yada. They’re also just plain fun to look at and dream about (otherwise why would we still have couture?).

Museums, always looking for ways to engage with us upper masses  (a term I just learned*), have in recent years embraced clothing as a draw. Here are three current exhibits that hope to entice holiday travelers to their halls, in New York, Pittsburgh, and Boston.

To take Boston first, there’s Fashioned by Sargent, a mounting of portraits by John Singer Sargent at the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, organized with Tate Britain. Aside from just being downright gorgeous, the show has a premise, that Sargent had a hand in choosing the garb of the estimable (or just rich) people who sat for him and was sending out messages by way of clothing (“The coat is the picture,” he apparently told one of his subjects). Maybe. But why not just enjoy the sumptuous gowns and gentlemanly dressing gowns and riding clothes—and especially a very modern-looking, almost casual, portrait of John D. Rockefeller, painted in 1917. The nice thing for winter travelers is that the show runs through January 15, 2024. (If you get to Boston before January 7, you can also see MFA’s multifaceted Strong Women in Renaissance Italy.)

Left, Madame Ramón Subercaseaux, 1880–81. Oil on canvas. Sarofim Foundation. Photograph © the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston. Right, Lady Agnew of Lochnaw, 1892. Oil on canvas. National Galleries of Scotland, purchased with the aid of the Cowan Smith Bequest Fund, 1925.

At left, John D. Rockefeller, painted by John Singer Sargent in 1917. Oil on canvas. Kykuit, National Trust for Historic Preservation, Pocantico Hills, New York. Bequest of John D. Rockefeller 3rd, Nelson A. Rockefeller, Laurance S. Rockefeller, David Rockefeller. Photo by Ben Asen. Right, Mrs. Fiske Warren (Gretchen Osgood) and Her Daughter Rachel, 1903. Oil on canvas. Gift of Mrs. Rachel Warren Barton and Emily L. Ainsley Fund.

Fashioned by Sargent, Boston Museum of Fine Arts, 465 Huntington Avenue, Boston, Massachusetts 02115; phone 615-267-9300; mfa.org. General admission for adults is $27; general plus the Sargent exhibit is $34. Timed ticket required. On view through January 15, 2024. 

This winter the Jewish Museum in Manhattan dives right into the House of Chloé: There never was a designer named Chloé. The design house is the brainchild of Gaby Aghion, an Egyptian emigré, and Chloé was the name of a friend. Aghion launched her line in 1952 Paris, but more than a designer, she was a woman with a desire to breathe a new spirit into the clothing of the moment—not couture, not copies of couture. And it happened, arguably because she evolved the business to embrace a young Karl Lagerfeld, who went on to head the design for 25 years, in two different stints; Martine Sitbon (“the first young girl to be named designer for the house”; Stella McCartney, who went on to create her own empire; Phoebe Philo, who launched her own first fashion line last month; Gabriela Hearst, who also has her own label and has prioritized sustainability in fashion. There are others, also represented in the show. The historical overview explore the ways in which each subsequent creative director after Aghion uniquely interpreted the Chloé ethos and echoed the needs of their time, from the development of ready-to-wear to embracing sustainable practices in fashion.

Two Chloe pieces designed by Karl Lagerfeld, who headed design early in his career and then a second stint. Left, “Angkor” dress designed by Karl Lagerfeld, spring–summer 1983. © Chloé Archive, Paris. Right, “Astoria” dress, designed by Karl Lagerfeld, spring–summer 1967, hand-painted silk crepe by Nicole Lefort. © Chloé Archive, Paris. Both photos by Julien T. Hamon. Courtesy the Jewish Museum, NY.

Left, dress designed by Martine Sitbon, spring–summer 1990, silk crepe, black chiffon, plastic
pellets, and beads. © Chloé Archive, Paris.
Right, blouse designed by Stella McCartney, autumn–winter 2001. © Chloé Archive, Paris.
Both photos by Julien T. Hamon. Courtesy the Jewish Museum, NY.

Left, blouse designed by Phoebe Philo, spring–summer 2002, silk crepe. © Chloé Archive, Paris.
Right, Puffcho designed by Gabriela Hearst, autumn–winter 2021. © Chloé Archive, Paris.
Both photos by Julien T. Hamon. Courtesy the Jewish Museum, NY.

Mood of the Moment: Gaby Aghion and the House of Chloé, Jewish Museum,  1109 Fifth Avenue, at 92nd Street. Phone 212-423-3200; thejewishmuseum.org. Admission for adults is $18, for seniors $12. Times ticket required. On view through February 18, 2024.

“14 years. 380 Embroiderers. 51 countries. Millions of stitches. 1 dress.” That’s how the Frick Pittsburgh announced this collaborative embroidery project. The Red Dress was conceived by British artist Kirstie Macleod as an artistic platform for women around the world, many of whom are vulnerable and live in poverty, to tell their personal stories through embroidery. The dress, which has toured the globe since 2009, features contributions from 380 artists from 51 countries. Incorporated into this exhibition are the Calico Dress, Pittsburgh’s own version of The Red Dress, created by local embroiderers, craftspeople and imaginative Frick visitors, and a paper dress by Belgian artist Isabelle de Borchgrave inspired by a Frick holding, Peter Paul Rubens’s Portrait of Charlotte-Marguerite de Montmorency, Princess of Condé. If you cannot get to Pittsburgh to view The Red Dress, it will next be exhibited at the Fuller Craft Museum in Brockton, Massachusetts (February 17 through May 19, 2024).

The Red Dress worn by UK artisan Freya Lusher. / Photo by Sophia Schorr-Kon.

The Red Dress embroidery detail. / Photo by Sophia Schorr-Kon.

Artisan Ayo Amon Demi holds a piece of The Red Dress. / Photo by Chloe Townsend.

The Red Dress, The Frick Pittsburgh, 7227 Reynolds Street, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 15208. Phone 412-371-0600; thefrickpittsburgh.org. Admission is free ($5 contribution suggested). On view through January 28,2024.

* My understanding is that it means those who have hit millionaire status only to discover that that really isn’t a lot of money anymore.

By Nancy McKeon

DEER ANTLERS usually aren’t “in velvet” till late spring, but we humans like the soft-nap fabric right about now, as we head into winter. As LittleBird Janet showed yesterday, velvet is everywhere in clothing, this year more than most. But it’s also being featured in home furnishings and decorative accessories.

How can such a delicate fabric be sat on, rolled around on, even have chunky jewelry tossed into it? The easy answer is that velvet is not so delicate, depending on the fiber it’s made from. That’s because velvet is not a fiber but a way of weaving silk, cotton, and various synthetics so that the resulting yardage has a plush nap for a finish. Silk velvet tops the list for delicacy and cost. But there’s also sturdy cotton velvet, and cotton and rayon and synthetic blends, often seen in upholstery fabric, speaking of not delicate.

Like everything else, all velvet is not the same. Don’t be put off by the use of synthetics, but do look for quality. Some fabrics called “velvet” are little more than flocking whereas others are plush and pleasing to the hand and eye. Here’s what we found in our march around the market.

Never mind the decorating dictum to choose ​your room’s rug first: Here’s a bed you can build your bedroom around. ​London’s House of Hackney loves moody palettes​ and maximalist style, and this patterned poly-velvet upholstered bed ​fits those criteria, from its​ sculpted headboard to its upholstered ​frame. ​Tempted to go mega-maximalist? There’s a matching organic cotton sateen duvet cover ($228 or $248 in queen- or king-size) and pillow shams, standard ($88 per pair) and Euro-square ($58 each). The bed is available in queen and king sizes, ​$2,498 and $2,698. For a lighter mood to your room, the velvet bed frame also comes in an Opia print, a pale ground with large pink blossoms. All at Anthropologie.

It’s hard to imagine a friendlier vibe for a dining area than these cotton-and-polyester Velvet Hagen Dining Chairs. Mix up your palette or stick to one of the six available colors. The cotton-blend velvet seating plays well in the living room or bedroom too. For a limited time, they’re $468 each at Anthropologie. The Hagen chair can also be had in leather (butterscotch, black or gray, $698 each).

The Hip Seat Carrier by Tushbaby lets Mom or designated other hoist Baby (up to 45 pounds) and let Baby sit on the velvet platform while safely attached to Mom’s hip. Pockets in the hip pouch hold essentials. It comes in velvet gray/silver and velvet brown/sable; $115 at Nordstrom.

TV shows come alive in immersive installations, such as “The Friends Experience” (left) and “Downton Abbey: The Exhibition” (right).

By Nancy McKeon

WE GROWNUP girls are far too jaded and, well, grownup to acknowledge crass broadcast-TV habits (Golden Bachelor? What Golden Bachelor?) But our younger selves? Didn’t we have Seinfeld, which gave us snark? And Friends, which gave us a healthy dose of heart and a nostalgia for just hanging out?

Speaking of nostalgia, did we not (many of us, anyway) swoon over the trappings of Downton Abbey? (See slideshow below.)

As part of “The Friends Experience,” currently on tap in several cities around the world, visitors can hang around on the Central Perk sofa (above) . . .

Derivatives of derivatives! There may be no better examples than two exhibitions catering to our love of our favorite TV shows, whose sets we enjoyed and perhaps imagined living in. So, if you have a way to get to one of a half-dozen cities soon, you might want to immerse yourself in the world of “The Friends Experience.” New York runs through the end of the year. Then there’s Miami and Salt Lake City and Amsterdam and Dublin and Melbourne. The exhibit has different dates in each city; go to each site for more info. Melbourne is the shortest run, through November 26, and Miami is the longest (in Aventura Mall, Aventura, Florida), through March 24, 2024),

As you might expect, the Friends set will allow you to sit down at Central Perk (Phoebe finally got the play on words!), hang out in Monica and Rachel’s kitchen (no food: Monica’s rules!), even pretend to “Pivot” to get the sofa up the stairs to Ross’s new apartment.

The Friends Experience, New York and other cities (see above), tickets $40 and up (way up).

And if you can make your way to Chicago (or to be more precise, the Westfield Old Orchard Shopping Center in Skokie, Illinois), you may be delighted to learn that “Downton Abbey: The Exhibition” opens there on Friday, November 10. It will be there through the end of March 2024.

. . . and even help Ross get the sofa up to his new apartment (“Pivot!”).

We have written about the Downton Abbey exhibition before. This review is based on the exhibit’s 2017 installation in New York and has been revised.

I COULD QUALIFY to be the Cook at Downton Abbey! I learned this by taking the interactive multiple-choice quiz at “Downton Abbey: The Exhibition,” while it was on display in New York, in 2017.

The quiz, an “application for employment,” seemed to be assessing my sense of organization, my loyalty, my ability to press forward in the face of interruption or bad decisions by others. Nowhere did it ask me if I could cook, something to remember when watching a rerun of Mrs. Patmore doing battle with the biscuit dough.

The woman ahead of me was told she qualified as a Lady’s Maid; another woman (because, yes, the quiz asks your sex) was tapped as a Housemaid. I guess all the above-stairs positions were taken, what with nepotism and all.

The exhibit, produced by NBCUniversal International Studios and a list of sponsors and contributors that takes up an entire page in the Souvenir Programme, is a well-calibrated mixture of sights and sounds from the show, which is apparently the highest-rated PBS “Masterpiece” drama series ever, seen by some 120 million people around the world. Even the late Queen Elizabeth II is said to have been an eagle-eyed viewer, pointing out the occasional anachronism (she noted a WWI soldier wearing medals awarded in WWII).

Most of the visitors to this celebration of a lost, or discarded, way of life, have been happily steeped in the minutiae of Downton Abbey for its six seasons, where life “in service” was shown to be as appealing as the life of those served. This is a chance to walk through the hallowed kitchen and butler’s pantry and other below-stairs areas, opening the occasional drawer, reading the odd book on a table, absorbing the information on wall plaques. Although we visitors get to walk beyond the green baize door separating the family’s living areas from the servants’, the upstairs rooms aren’t quite as well kitted out because they were real, shot on location at Highclere Castle, which played the role of Downton Abbey.

We were able to walk through a portrait-laden grand dining room. Then we sat on benches in Lord Grantham’s library, with its projected image of book-lined walls, only to watch as the walls crumbled to ruins, replaced by scenes of wretched trench warfare. The ebb and flow of images was as dazzling as it was sobering.

Commercial exhibitions such as this one are more like World’s Fair installations than proper museum exhibits. But I’ve been to the French fry museum (in Bruges, Belgium), a chocolate museum (Barcelona), the pasta museum in Rome, and others, and I find that the wall plaques and artifacts in these displays are more detailed and give more historical and social context than those in many a Smithsonian exhibit.

And the Smithsonian doesn’t invite me to “upgrade” my experience by buying a night’s lodging at the hotel on the Biltmore grounds (when the exhibition was in Asheville, North Carolina).

Or, in New York back in 2017, my friends and I were invited to indulge in an Afternoon Tea Package at the nearby Whitby Hotel (the Whitby still offers afternoon tea).

After the “dressing gong” was rung (by three selfie-taking Korean schoolgirls), we visitors faced the final Downton display, a feel-good video appearance by Lord and Lady Grantham, Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes. What would the family do without the staff? Lady Mary asked, not entirely rhetorically. To which Mr. Carson replied, What would the staff do without the family?

See? There once was a proper social order, and the world has been going to hell every since it got blown up. What’s left to us are shows such as Downton Abbey that allow us to peer longingly into another age. Never mind that most of us would be staring up at those drawing rooms and libraries from below-stairs.

Downton Abbey: The Exhibition, November 10 through March 31, 2024, Westfield Old Orchard, 4905 Old Orchard Center, Skokie, Illinois 60077.

“Downton Abbey: The Exhibition” sets the scene well, although fans of the television series probably don’t need the background. / MyLittleBird photo.

Here Mrs. Hughes greets exhibit visitors cordially, in video form. There are filmed “appearances” of the major characters at various points throughout the exhibit. / MyLittleBird photo.

Visitors enter “Downton Abbey: The Exhibition” through the Downton kitchen, which is a far cry from today’s trophy kitchens, albeit with far more hired help. / MyLittleBird photo.

Snug little meat pies right from the oven embody the hearty fare of the Edwardian era. The subtle kitchen soundtrack is a constant clink of spoons striking pottery bowls and knives chopping against wood boards. / MyLittleBird photo.

Some of us think a dozen eggs is too many to buy at one time. This wooden egg holder shows much more ambition. / MyLittleBird photo.

Ah, the bell board, summoning staff to the world above-stairs with its many needs. At the exhibition, bells ring intermittently from various rooms. / MyLittleBird photo.

Mr. Bates, Daisy and Mrs. Patmore are some of the below-stairs characters whose likenesses punctuate the exhibit. / MyLittleBird photo.

This is the Butler’s Pantry, where Mr. Carson locks up the silver, examines the household accounts and decants the wine in the metal contraption shown. / MyLittleBird photo.

Upstairs is where the family finery comes out to play, including a life-size image of this memorable moment, when Lady Sybil shows off her new-style silk pantaloons to a rather dumbstruck family. The real pantaloons are exhibited on the third floor with other pieces of vintage clothing. / MyLittleBird photo.

Most of the Edwardian accessories in the exhibit are the real deal. / MyLittleBird photo.

A couple of “rooms” unfold behind oversize images of Downton characters beckoning visitors. / MyLittleBird photo.

Lady Mary’s Bedroom is a calm affair, here enlivened by a dressing gown and period lingerie. / MyLittleBird photo.

The vintage garments on the third floor are from the show. Some were too delicate to be laundered and, as a result, cast members have said, don’t smell very good. / MyLittleBird photo.

Costume designer Anna Robbins found some of the Edwardian clothing in secondhand shops in her native Scotland, which are, she says, less picked over. / MyLittleBird photo.

The butler Carson as a Christmas tree ornament, in the Downton Abbey shop. Not one branding possibility is overlooked. There’s Downton tea, Downton writing pads, Downton tea sets and trivets and tea towels, you name it. / MyLittleBird photo.