Bow Down to the Silver and Black! Part III

Back in the “loge of luxury”, I tried to watch the game, but because of the curve of the stadium I could see that the suite next to ours was actually a command center for Oakland P.D. and various affiliated crime fighters. Now that was interesting! They had computers and miles of cables to stay in touch with areas of potential trouble and presumably, their munitions warehouse. I found it irresistible to watch guys in commando gear and aviator glasses with walkie-talkies and binoculars trained on the stands below. What were they pointing at? I had to find out! Knocking on their door probably wasn’t a good idea. An opportunity presented itself when one of the agents stepped out in the hallway to make a personal call, where I was doing the same thing. I waited until she was done and said hello. We got to talking, and she said there’s more trouble with fans when Oakland is winning, but that doesn’t happen all that much. (Ouch!) I told her about my job at Red House, and would you believe I found my business opportunity outside the box, literally – in the hallway?! This officer is part of a speaking group that has been looking into shirts for a group of officers culled from all over the Bay Area who speak in schools. Something less intimidating than their uniforms, but also not undercutting their authority as law enforcement officers. Definitely a button-down! The embroidered logo will be tricky, as it has to be general enough to please several different agencies. I said Red House could get what they needed with the budget they had. We scheduled a meeting for next week. I couldn’t wait to tell Michael that while he was watching guys falling on the grass I was expanding Red House’s client base! Touchdown!

Oh, while talking in the hallway, I saw that Natalie had responded to the photo I sent her – which turned out to be rapper/actor/sometimes-inmate SNOOP DOGG! I showed the officer the picture and she laughed and said he’s almost always at the games and no, has never gotten in trouble here. (Not that she knows of!)

Back in the box and back to work – would you believe I was not done yet?! I mentioned my potential deal with the police (during a timeout of course) and one of the guests mentioned that he’s part of a group of realtors who spruce up foreclosed homes, and that they too need a tasteful shirt that promotes their efforts. What a great idea! (The sprucing and the shirts!) The realtors perform a great service and self-promote at the same time. (And the fact is, they have some extra spare time at the present.) They aren’t wielding nail guns and replacing windows, but they clean them - and do yard work and plant flowers at unoccupied homes, preserving the property values of their neighbors. And who will the neighbors call when they want to buy or sell? Now that’s great P.R.! He will check his schedule and call me next week. Wow! Is football a great game or what?!

Bow Down to the Silver and Black! Part II

Once inside the stadium, Michael had to pull me through the sardine-can crowd to the suite elevators. A small but thuggy-looking guy in a coat many times larger than he was waiting in front of the doors. He was flanked by two massive men who were half-swatting away a pack of cell phone photographers. The guy was known! But who was he? I bet Natalie would know – I took a photo and sent it. The elevator was small so one of the bodyguards had to ride alone, which struck me as funny. I wished I could identify the celeb, oh well. He couldn’t be a football player, that’s for sure.

I saw a service cart go by, laden with champagne bottles –yes! Could the caviar and blini be far behind? Maybe not, but I soon learned none of it was destined for our suite. Instead, our host opted for a “different” catering package: light beer and margaritas made with what appeared to be a fluorescent green food coloring - like the stuff in The Incredible Hulk movie. Yuck. And nachos. After introductions it was time to turn around and brave the crowds again to go down to the field, where we would get to see the players warming up. This was a big honor, I was told, though I’d rather be gauging fellow guests’ business interest in Red House.

On the field, the players stretched and jogged. Most entertaining were the ultra-devoted fans assembled in the end zone. They never missed a home game. They believed. Their motto: “Real Men Wear Black” is not taken figuratively. The designer in me appreciated the efforts of so many to create such outrageously elaborate costumes. If the goal is to strike fear in the hearts of their competitors then they could not fail. The skull and crossbones are a motif. Bones of all kinds were strung as necklaces, bracelet and anklets. There were skulls on staffs to pound down during a touchdown, or impale opponents. There were silver wigs of massive proportions. I saw witch doctors, pirates, demons - all variations on the theme with faces painted in black and silver. I’m not sure who wore the most makeup, the fans or the Raiderettes. The field experience was surreal!

After the players were introduced they ran into their locker room, and as they did, they were touched by a phalanx of fans, who roared, chanted, screamed and otherwise blessed them with good juju and a little paint transfer – whatever it takes to win!

It was our turn to exit the field and get back to our tepid nachos. We too received the fans’ mojo as we left. I braced myself for the rain of hands and it wasn’t so bad. Dusting off some glitter from my charcoal gray pashmina (RH29) I could feel the instincts of a fan. I was a part of something big, and it was exciting! GO RAIDERS!

Bow down to the Silver and Black! Part 1

I’m not a football fan. I am though, always interested in anything my clients feel passionate about. In this case, the wild and wonderful Oakland Raiders. Last month, a client invited Michael and I to join him for a home game that he assured me would be quite memorable. The client had booked a luxury suite for the event and he is a restaurant owner so I knew the food would be good. How could we say no? Michael was thrilled to be going. Not only does he actually love football, but the game would allow him to avoid another episode of the dreaded Madeleine Inquisition with regards to his Charlotte job interview. Fortunately for our client, the Raiders were not playing the Carolina Panthers, as Michael’s loyalties are currently questionable at best.

My client said attending a Raiders home game is one of those things to do before you die, like climbing Mt. Everest. I had already decided against any bucket list items that might actually bring on death, but a sporting event sounded harmless enough.

Game day was awesome, sun shining in down on the valley – and then we got down to Oakland, where the skies looked more like… primer. We arrived three hours early to take advantage of the pregame festivities and yes, a little business too. I fully expected to be able to introduce the Red House brand to someone in the suite by first down and have their business by the end of the game.

We sure didn’t expect that parking was going to be a challenge this early, but we had arrived at the world’s largest parking lot. Fans had been situated so long it appeared they had set up camp. Turns out they actually had - the tailgate party is an Oakland institution. I saw the most elaborate barbecue set-ups, with tables and chairs sheltered by black and silver striped awnings, and even a smattering of actual recliners. And beer. Lots and lots of beer. The recycle bins were overflowing and it was 10:00 a.m.! There were trailers festooned in silver and black fringe, hawkers with Raider merchandise of all kinds – including shot glasses. Fans wouldn’t want to be short of those! (I bought a small, tasteful pin for my pashmina.) Many fans utilized the stereos in their cars to maximum effect, and he who has the biggest speakers wins! The vibration of the cacophony wars threatened to loosen a few of my fillings.

As we walked the mile or four (!) to the stadium, the volume increased. There was some friendly trash talking between the tailgate crowd and the few who dared file past them wearing the colors of the opposing team. But no one threw a rib or beer can. There were few children around – probably for good reason. A man staggered past me, placed one steadying hand on the side of the Porta-Potty while the other unzipped his fly and he relieved himself against the side of the structure. Oh. My. God. “Michael!” But again, my husband missed seeing what for some reason I always do. He was ten paces ahead admiring a classic Dodge Charger painted half silver and half black with a life-size (real?!) skull mounted on the hood. It too was memorable, but I wished he had seen the guy who couldn’t be bothered to STEP INTO the Porta-Potty!

Business and Grits.

My worst fears are realized: Michael loves Charlotte! But does Charlotte love him? Apparently, she, it - the world of megabanking does. He’s back for a second set of interviews and had meetings from early morning throughout the day, a regular whirlwind of fun. He was gushing with enthusiasm when he called after a dinner meeting follow-up with some of the execs he met with earlier. He said they were impressed with his education and career path, especially his role as co-owner of Red House. They like his brand of entrepreneurial spirit there, and his initial vibe was that he feels he’s what they are looking for. (OH NO!)

The city has it all, he says. Most of all, big plans for the future. Yeah, and big plates of grits and pork parts! I did a little research of my own – the city will soon have a NASCAR Hall of Fame, which means lots of Hooter’s restaurants sprouting up all around. Eeew. Michael said that what I consider “real” culture is coming too, museums of a nonautomotive nature, restaurants with chefs who know what escarole is and how to use it, and who don’t have packs of cigarettes rolled up in the sleeves of their grease-stained T-shirts. But it’s the South! Michael corrected me – the New South. Oh. He said that bankers wouldn’t be flocking to Charlotte if the city lacked the cultural amenities they’ve come to enjoy, like ten-page wine lists. I peppered him with more queries. No, he had not seen a single Confederate flag flying. Yes, there were grits at breakfast but only one VP in the conference room ate them. Michael himself had a blueberry scone. Where did they eat tonight? Savannah Red, a local denizen of southern food with fresh inspiration, oh, and a wine bar too. What about barbecue shacks? He did see one of these enroute from the airport. It featured a giant plastic pig on the roof with X’s where its eyes should have been. Uh-huh, exactly!

Much to my dismay, Michael did not mention his part-time and commuting requirements at any time during today’s interviews, and that his wife would leave Napa only if California fell into the sea. That discussion would happen later – once they offered him the job. (If, Michael!) He reminded me of one of his favorite aphorisms, “Always negotiate from a position of strength.” (I hope he feels faint the day he has to negotiate.)

He has a brief meeting in the morning with Human Resources to discuss the basic benefits, and he assured me he’d be home for “supper”. I think he was being facetious, but I’ll see if Dean & DeLuca has any pickled pig’s feet I can surprise him with.

Good night, ya’all!

2009! Bring it on!

San Francisco, with its culture of food, wine and sophisticated fun, is a great New Year’s Eve kind of city. At least I’m pretty sure of it, as I haven’t actually done New Year’s in the city. And this is not the year for an extravagant evening of packing our drunken selves into cable cars for party hopping that ends with a night in the penthouse in the Fairmont. We’ll leave the decadence to the rock stars and heads of state. Instead, we’ll be ringing in the New Year in Napa, opting for a subtle, inexpensive, reasonably quiet but hopefully very fun gathering of friends, clients and even one vendor for a WHITE ELEPHANT PARTY!

Having just done one at the kids’ school that didn’t work all that well, I am determined to make this party memorable. Just like Michael and I used to do in New York!
So, if you like to wait until the very last minute to make New Year’s plans, or you’re in the mood to plan for next month, here’s my way of doing it.

A White Elephant party is simply a silly gift exchange, which, when done correctly, brings out the great humor and crafty strategy of your guests. However, every time I do one of these parties, otherwise intelligent people tend to get it wrong. Be very clear in your invite, State that guests are to bring one gift per person, not per couple. Gifts should be wrapped but not tagged, as no one knows who will be opening them. Tell them their gifts can be anything - except something bought for the event “that everyone would like”. A Red House cashmere scarf for example, would be an inappropriate White Elephant gift. But a sausage in the shape of a teddy bear has great potential. I always have a few extra wrapped gifts in case someone forgets theirs. (This always happens!) Guests should be advised that they will be expected to tell a brief story about their gift after someone opens it. Some guests find this cumbersome for some reason, so emphasize brief.

When guests arrive, they place their gifts under the tree and everyone carries on with drinks, dinner and catching up until it is time for the Real Party. Do not start the White Elephant too late though as it takes time, and those who leave before it’s over mess things up. Find out in advance if any guests need to leave early to relieve babysitters or walk dogs. Ideally, state a planned end time on the invite. For New Year’s, I’ve said 1:00 a.m. That gives us time for a “break” to toast 2009 and kiss.

When it’s time for the party to begin, pass around a bowl with numbers to draw corresponding to the number of people (and gifts.) The person who has “1” gets to choose first. Person #2 can choose any of the wrapped gifts or Person #1’s unwrapped item. The higher the number, the greater the options. As each gift is opened, the person who brought it expounds on its significance, provenance, or in my case reads as much as an entire typewritten page about the gift. (I like to tell a story!) This is maybe why others find the oratorical request daunting. But remember, public speaking is a valuable skill. And I think entertaining doesn’t get any better than this!

Two rounds of White Elephant are typically played. This gives Person #1 the opportunity to “steal” back his or her original gift or dispense with the clunker they have had since the beginning. The more bizarre gifts get traded a lot. And every once in a while there’s a clearly tacky gift that actually appeals to one guest. An example? A box of vanilla/nutmeg bath salts that was represented by the person who brought it as having the option of doubling as a pancake mix. The guest who took it home couldn’t wait to try it. Not sure whether it made it to the bath or kitchen!

That, my friends, is why you should plan to have or attend one of these parties soon. In uncertain times, laughter and good wine are the best medicine. Happy New Year, everyone!

On to the Ho Ho Ho!

I am feeling much better about the holidays. Most work issues are tabled until January; trips, pageants and parties are for the most part done. And shopping has been easier as I have been out there less this year. The key to cutting back is making gifts meaningful, of course. Forget throwaway fashion – the refined classics of Red House will be under the trees of my friends and family this year, and enjoyed for years to come. We are all about quality that keeps its value. And, yes, I know, Ralph Lauren thought of it first. Though I have to say, when I had my nose pressed against the window of his San Francisco boutique last week, it was to admire something a bit more opulent. (Not, however, the $16,000 crocodile bowling bag – Horrors!) Let’s hope for a rebounding economy very soon. Meanwhile, a Christmas morning characterized by less frenzy and mountains of crumpled gift wrap means more time to enjoy each other. Sounds trite, but I’m thinking it will be a memorable holiday.

What really made my mood change for the better was participating in a “Dinner-and-a-Coat” benefit party at Delia and Andrew’s school for Napa Valley farm workers and their families. The students collected outgrown and “out of fashion” (i.e. not classic!) kids’ and adults’ coats. You might not think it gets cold here in Napa but we have our frosty winter days too, and a warm coat offers a lot of comfort. With the help of grown-ups, the coats were cleaned and displayed in the school gym on hangers that were wrapped in beautiful bows. Each was tagged with size and gender. After a healthy buffet dinner of locally grown food (that the farm workers probably participated in harvesting!), the party began. Each attendee pulled a number out of a fish bowl and Number 1 had first pick of coats. A White Elephant theme was meant to make the event more exciting, but some of the attendees were a bit confused at first - as were those of us organizing, as we all had different rules and needed to reach agreement. We did, finally, and tried to make it clear that Number 2 could pick a coat from the rack OR the coat Number 1 had chosen, and etc., etc… As the hours went by we realized White Elephant isn’t the best approach when there are hundreds of people and myriad sizes. Even so, everyone went home with a coat, a full stomach and muddled comprehension of a silly American party game. It felt good to help.

To my clients, vendors, friends, and the complete strangers who might be reading this, I wish you a warm and Happy Holiday, filled with the people you love, enhanced by good food – and good wine. Thank you for your continued business, and I hope you will choose Red House again in the year ahead. Here’s to a joyous 2009! CHEERS!!!

Shame and Suffering Under the Big Top.

Party at Pier 29! In a tent! Dinner-and-a-circus! Every time I come to San Francisco I see the big white spiegeltent (German for “ancient Big Top”) of Teatro Zinzani and the tagline: “Love, Chaos & Dinner”. What’s not to love?! Check it out – www.love.zinzanni.org. It sounded like just the right place for the Red House Holiday Party. Extreme fun for all! The attendees were few in number but large in enthusiasm (or at least that’s what they told me). Just Kerin and her boyfriend Brian, Michael and myself. There were others we’d get to know by the night’s end, but not on purpose.

Anyway, the concept is a raucous, celebratory dinner party staffed by cabaret-loving carnival refugees and former gymnasts. Am I making sense? It is hard to explain. There are Elvis impersonators, actors, singers, comedians – any of whom could also be carnival refugees. The show is a series of breathtaking feats, vaudeville songs and comedy routines. I had heard that members of the audience are sometimes conscripted into roles designed to embarrass them thoroughly. I had also heard that we should dress wildly so I wore my red sequined cocktail dress with a turquoise feather boa and a vintage red velvet hat. Kerin opted for a “70’s glam rock look. I hadn’t seen anyone wear white satin since disco died! Blatantly ignoring my suggestion of festive dress, Brian and Michael wore Red House shirts. While I admire their good taste, they sure didn’t look like they belonged with us. They purposely did not want to attract attention. Instead, under cover of business-casual they hoped to observe others attracting attention.

One of the server/participants, a stunning supermodel-type, announced to our table with Nazi-like inflection that she was 6’4”. She then demanded that each of us indicate our height as she took copious notes. She cracked a whip and announced that she was from “East Germany”. With Teutonic efficiency, she adjusted the salt and peppershakers on our table repeatedly and seemed quite irritated - mumbling under her breath about the “lack of discipline”. At one point she even used a ruler to make sure the condiments were precisely placed. Then, before leaving to torment another table, she told me my dress was too sexy for me. (Ouch! But I got to thinking, maybe she’s right…!)

There was something going on in every part of the dining room the whole evening. Every course was a new adventure. A trapeze artist dangled over tables as our salad plates were delivered by a server who clambered effortlessly over the back of our booth and slid onto the seat. He arranged the plates for us and then slithered under the table and out – all without a word. Bizarre!

Other than the fact that little bits of my feather boa kept getting into my food, the cuisine was really quite good. Our focus though, was on the experience - while being careful to avoid eye contact with the staff. They appeared well trained to spot a victim. Poor Brian, he must have looked too normal in his Red House button-down shirt. He was targeted by a woman (well, not a real woman) who said he was her long–lost Todd! I know he’d be devastated if I told you the full extent of his humiliation, but what happened next was that “Miss Davina” took “Todd” by the hand to center stage. (She was strong!) There, she reenacted the circumstances of their erstwhile romance. They had been marooned together on a tiny tropical island, the only survivors after their cruise ship sank and sharks ate all of the other passengers. She demonstrated that since it was so hot on the island “Toddy” didn’t need his shirt, so the Red House button-down was tossed aside. And of course, she didn’t need her shirt either, so Brian had to fashion a coconut bra and fit her with it. (You can picture this pretty well, can’t you? Right down to his crimson-red face!) So frightened was Miss Davina in recalling this experience that she had to hold Toddy verrrry tightly, just as she had all those years before they were rescued. Now that she had found him again she vowed not to let go, literally. She ended the routine by crowding into our booth with one very large and hairy arm looped around her Toddy. I’m pretty sure it will be a long time before Toddy forgives me, but what a memorable holiday party for the rest of us!

Bah Humbug, for now.

I wish I could be more cheerful about this “most wonderful time of the year”, but I’m feeling like the various Dickens Christmas Ghosts are going to show up at my bedside and tell me everything I’m doing wrong. They’d be right. Meanwhile, I’m sure not having a good time. Michael is scheduled for another trip back to Charlotte before Christmas and could possibly miss Andrew’s kindergarten Posada pageant. I am expected to create a burro costume for the lad and I can tell you right now it’s not going to happen. (The best I can do is to glue fake fur ears and a tail on his ninja Halloween costume.) I promised Delia we’d go see The Nutcracker ballet in San Francisco and finish with hot chocolate and a viewing of the gingerbread cathedrals and castles in the lobby of the Fairmont Hotel. Walking past cookies is as close as I’m going to get to baking them!

My shopping so far has been limited to gifts for clients, which I hope to personally deliver to them, or even better: present to them at the parties they’ve been kind enough to invite me to. I look forward to these episodes of merriment and the opportunity to wear my red sequined cocktail dress. (It’s perfect for keeping RED House on their minds as we start a new year!) But interfering with my fun is…everything else I have to get done!

I know I’ll have to get to the toy store as the kids already have several Red House cashmere scarves from last year and are hoping for something they can play with. Aside from shopping, the Red House holiday cards need to be sent (I’ll put Kerin on that!) and a bit more gluing of glitter to complete the handmade cards we do each year for family and friends. This is a tradition that I take seriously as a designer, but no one will see them if they remain in a stack on the coffee table.

Our Christmas goose, and whatever else we may eat Christmas week will be delivered - cooked, baked and basted - by Dean & DeLuca. I am secure in the knowledge that we have sparkling wine chilled and ready in sufficient quantity for anyone who may drop by this season. Now there’s some comfort and joy!

Next time I’ll tell you about our own Red House “company Christmas party” – it’s coming up! Meanwhile, check out this alternative I found to the traditional holiday fruitcake: www.inflatablefruitcake.com. It might just help you finish your own holiday shopping!

Tea but No Sympathy.

I met Mom and Dad for lunch at the Lakehouse restaurant of Calistoga Ranch Resort (calistogaranch.com). It’s such a lovely, private setting, by its own peaceful little lake, with the Mayacamas Mountains in the distance. I could almost forget that I have a lot on my mind. But I skipped the wine pairing and went with the ice tea – a sure sign that I’m on edge. I told my parents about Michael’s bank-lust and mentioned every what-if I could think of. They offered the sort of response you’d expect to hear from retired people with few responsibilities, and who have been ultra-relaxed here at Calistoga Ranch for the past week. They told me not to worry, blah, blah, things have a way of working themselves out. Ugh! That is NOT what I wanted to hear! I wanted sympathy and concrete suggestions for talking Michael out of potentially commuting to Charlotte. They weren’t going there, probably the wisest choice they made that day other than choosing the oyster and sauvignon blanc pairing. I was on my own to sort this out. Oddly, my own parents remind me more of Michael than Michael’s parents do…

So, unable to engage Mom and Dad in my battle, we talked about the kids. Except for Andrew’s episode of dancing around naked at Circle Time - that required many apologetic phone calls - there were no problems, and the clothes stayed on the rest of the time. The kids loved the pool at Calistoga Ranch, despite the chilly weather, but spent most of the time in the hot tub at my parents’ guest lodge and insisted on using the outdoor shower every day (So would I!) They went on long walks, discovering an old orchard and an abandoned summer camp, and Delia even joined in a beading class with my mom.

I gathered the kids’ stuff and went to pick them up at school. They were surprised to see me a day early and were both joyful and sad, as they’d be leaving the life luxurious at Calistoga Lodge. Can’t blame them for that - they were facing a very simple dinner of tortellini and broccoli and most likely an earlier bedtime than they’d enjoyed with Mom and Dad.

Michael and I had a very long talk on the phone tonight. He should have been exhausted, but he sounded very energized and ready for his interviews tomorrow. Though it was already dark when he arrived in Charlotte he said the city looked vibrant. Dang. Napa is plenty vibrant in a different way. And New York is the MOST vibrant, and I am thrilled to be out of the rat race there. I thought Michael was too…

He did tell me that the interviews are preliminary and no decisions will be made for at least a month. Good news!

See ya, Michael.

My brain is still buzzing. Charlotte, North Carolina! Unreal! I didn’t sleep well as I was thinking about his plans, my plans, our plans – everything.

On the way to the airport Michael did his best to calm me down. He said that his top priority is our family. If (and there are a few ifs) he takes this job it would be a gradual transition. He would be one of those commuter employees and only a part-time one at that, as he is committed to the smooth running of Red House. He would also be very involved in the choosing of his replacement. The business would not suffer – this he assured me of. The rest of it – how our ENTIRE LIVES would play out is another issue entirely. He asked that I not get ahead of myself on that one right now - too many unknowns. What is known is that I’m not known for my patience, but I will try. At least temporarily.

I dropped Michael off at SFO and went to pick up the kids, who were staying with my parents at Calistoga Ranch. Good thing I called first as it was morning and my mom reminded me that the kids were in school. Oh, right! She was surprised to hear from me a day early. (Not as surprised as I was to be here a day early.) I made plans to meet my parents for lunch and then surprise Delia and Andrew by picking them up at school.

Back to work and plenty of it. This trip was the first time Michael and I had been away from Red House for more than two days since we launched the business. I have to say, Kerin did very well while we were gone. Not that I expected disasters, but there were multiple orders coming in that she had to deal with in addition to her administrative responsibilities. I wasn’t sure how she’d do under pressure, and it was great to find out that she has the ability and motivation to effectively handle quality control and client contact too. I learned that she also fielded some new business inquiries with professionalism and flair. I see an evolving role for Kerin. She asked where Michael was and I thought about telling her, but we had stitching to check this morning on 78 shirts. I just said he had a family issue. The facts can wait for another day!