Yep, that’s you! I logged into my blog today to update some features that keep it healthy.

It dawned on me that I should take two seconds and say one or two things, or maybe explain why I’ve temporarily sidelined this blog project.

So that’s all I’m gonna do here today.

Thing One: Everyone goes through phases in life, and I have to say that my Passion for Fashion Phase is a thing of the past, though I still love a pretty new outfit now and then. I maintain a strong academic interest in vintage clothes, sewing and designers, but I’m not into collecting. I’ve trimmed my wardrobe considerably. It’s a total joy to open my closet and quickly find just what I want to wear.

Thing Two:  I’m not collecting clothes, but I’m still acquisitive to a fault. When my mother-in-law’s vinyl collection was on the family auction block, I couldn’t let it go. I’m now hoarding a massive collection of vinyl records. Did you know that vinyl records are a “thing” again? In 2019, sales of vinyl records surpassed CDs for the first time since 1986, thanks to their popularity among young people. I’m writing a story about that for a local classical music organization.

Thing Three: If you like classical music, you must hear the wildly creative things Steve Hackman does with it. He’s the new creative director for the Happy Hour series at the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra. I just did a story about him for Pattern Indy.

Thing Four: This year, I got really serious about my writing business. I wrote a new business plan and began working with a business coach. One of the first things she asked was, “Has your blog made money?” My answer: not a cent. I’ve only ever done this for free and for pleasure. With some ambitious financial goals on the horizon and a family that needs my care, I took her hint. These days, I’m finding less laborious ways to have fun.

Thing Five: I took a break from social media this summer. I didn’t miss it at all. 

Thing Six: I really wish we lived in a world where people are not judged by the number of followers they have. Don’t you? Sometimes, I get the distinct impression that prospective clients are sizing me up that way. I only have a few dear friends like you, but you mean the world to me.

Thing Seven: My husband and I purchased a place on a lake in May. It’s been a balm to our souls this summer. We’ve made delightful friends there. When we are not reading, we spend a lot of time just staring at the water. (I’ve also found it a very productive place to work!)

I’d just love to hear from you. Tell me something wonderful that happened to you this summer, will you?

Life is short. Wear the good stuff.

Happy New Year! I hope you’re starting the year on top. I am, at least from a sartorial point of view.

Skinny jeans are on their way out. (I could easily have predicted this because I recently bought my first pair. By the time I embrace a trend, it’s always on its way out.) Boot cut jeans and wide leg trousers have always flattered me more, and they’re back.

Bobbed hair is all the rage, and I’ve got that covered too. Yes, I’ve finally accepted longer hair. Mine’s more messy-French bob than sleek-geometric bob because I don’t like to style hair. I like it well enough to say I think I’ll keep it, at least for now.

One of the perks of a post-Instagram world: we’re all free to wear whatever we want. But, hey. Even I like to be “on trend” once in a while.

Vera before Vera

Now for a fashion accessory that’s good in three out of four seasons and is eternally chic: the scarf. I’ve been wearing and collecting scarves since I was in high school, when my mother gave me an apricot floral silk, designed by Vera. 

Not Vera Bradley. That’s a different Vera. For a while, I was completely mad about that brand too. My fervor was once strong enough that I attended the annual Vera Bradley sale in Fort Wayne, Indiana, where the company is headquartered.  Thousands of crazed women stand in long lines every spring for a chance to buy a few (or a few dozen) Vera Bradley purses at a deep discount.

No, I’m speaking of the other Vera—Vera Neumann, the scarf designer whose brand was once ubiquitous in department stores and fine boutiques worldwide. And then there were none—all gone. Or so I thought until I began to see them in vintage shops. Recently, I learned more about the woman behind the multi-million dollar fashion empire and how the brand ultimately vanished.

Vera Salaff studied fine art at Cooper Union Art School and graduated in 1928. Afterwards, she continued her education at the Ethel Traphagen School of Fashion Design and began freelancing as a textile artist on Seventh Avenue in New York.

In the 1930s she married George Neumann, a supportive guy who encouraged her artistic pursuits and lent advertising expertise when Vera’s textiles business began to blossom. They formed Printex, Inc. as a maker of table linens in 1945. Vera’s first products—bold, colorful placemats made at home in the couple’s kitchen—were an instant hit. To finance their growth, the Neumann’s and their partner, F. Werner Hamm, were forced to take out a bank loan.

Fabrics for table linens became incredibly expensive after World War II, and the company sought alternatives. They found a surplus of affordable parachute fabric and began making scarves. Lord & Taylor acquired her first scarf design in 1947.

The company prospered during the 1950s and 1960s, adding sportswear and other products, and changing its name to Vera Companies. After a merger with another textile company, it became known as Vera Industries.

Vera had achieved such success by 1972 that The Smithsonian Institute presented Vera: The Renaissance Woman, in recognition of her extraordinary career to that point. She was also celebrated by the Philadelphia Textile Museum and was named twice on the top 10 women executives in Fortune Magazine.

A big corporation subsequently gobbled up Vera Industries, but Vera continued to design scarves until her death in 1993. From 1992 to 1999, a mail order shop, Tog Shop, licensed the Vera name and eventually purchased her collection and rights. One of their former executives, Susan Seid, later acquired the same with the goal of restoring the brand, which had lost traction. As far as I can tell, she did not meet with success. Seid published a book about Vera in 2010.

Among the more interesting Vera lore

• Marilyn Monroe considered Vera her favorite scarf designer. She wore them proudly and was photographed in the nude, covered only by a few Vera scarves for The Last Sitting, a book by Bert Stern. 

• Vera selected the ladybug as her signature symbol, so chosen because it’s considered a universal symbol of happiness. The ladybug appears before or after her name on tags for her mid-century scarves. Some collectors say it continues through the 1980s, although that’s debatable.

• In addition to sportswear, scarves and table linens, Vera also designed sleepwear for Formfit Rogers, a vintage lingerie brand.

• Unlike many designers, there’s no signature Vera look. Vera fabrics are always exquisite and often silk. The designs encompass everything—florals, paisleys, geometrics, animals, bugs, plants and vegetables. (When I inventoried my collection, I discovered that I only had geometrics.)

• Vera also designed many commemorative scarves, including one for the Indianapolis Motor Speedway just a few miles from my home. (Notice the ladybug symbol next to her signature.)

If you love accessories, keep your eyes open for Vera scarves in thrift and vintage shops. They’re still out there “in the wild,” as my collector friends like to say.

There may be a few Vera scarves in your mother or grandmother’s drawer. I know there’s at least one in my mother’s collection: the apricot silk I wore to my high school graduation. At some point in life, I returned it to her. After all, she paid for it!

I’ve shown you my Vera. Now, you show me yours.

Life is short. Wear the good stuff.

Evidently, hair matters more than I previously thought. I’ve learned this since I decided to grow my super-short hair into a longer style. I’m nine months into this project. By no means would anyone call my hair long, but it is certainly longer. Although it hasn’t hit a stage that I consider The Ultimate, I must admit that it is kinder to my large and aging features.

That’s not just my opinion. Pretty much everyone from my Mom to the guys I work out with at the gym agree that longer hair is an improvement. In fact, so many people (women AND men) have weighed in on the topic that I can’t help wondering why a group of my closest friends didn’t stage an intervention. (Well, there was that one time when I mentioned the possibility of growing it and a friend encouraged me by reminding me that I was no Audrey Hepburn.)

It matters not that I have teetered on the brink of insanity for nine months while my hair has been growing. The world is happier because I have hair. So you—whoever you are— are probably reading this and realizing that yes, yes, you do feel much better than you did nine months ago, though you hadn’t quite pinpointed the origin of your contentment. Know this: it is all because of my longer hair. Yes, much time, labor and money has been sacrificed on your behalf.

Maybe you’re just a short hair fan who is considering the challenge of growing your hair. If so, here’s the hair-growth strategy that has brought me thus far.

Get a good stylist.

How do I love Kate Roth? Let me count the ways. I could never have come this far without my stylist. Kate kept me trimmed and optimistic about forging ahead. And because Kate is also a writer of romance novels and a committed solo entrepreneur who is never, ever going to work for The Man again in her life, I looked forward to seeing her for each appointment. We have so much to talk about that my hair is almost an aside. I made a new friend while growing my hair. (If you live in Indy, you can use Kate, too.)

I checked in with Kate every five to six weeks for small tweaks. At one point, things were going so well that I allowed nine weeks to pass without seeing her. When I returned, we really had something to work with. If you reach a stage where you are tolerating growth, delay your appointment schedule and use the time to gain momentum toward your new style.

Accept the present.

(Getting ready for a family wedding in Ohio this summer. Fluffy hair for the first time in decades.)

During the first three months, you’re going to crave your old cut like an alcoholic needs a drink. Your hair is not what it once was, and it’s nowhere close to your goal. When you’re tempted to throw in the towel, give it another week, then two. Even a few millimeters of growth can change everything. Do your best to accept your hair in the moment, just as it is. Think your yoga thoughts. You may think it’s a mess, but the rest of the world doesn’t see it that way.

Wear hats.

If you don’t have hats, take yourself shopping as a reward for the challenge you’ve accepted. I am currently at a stage of growth that only a hat can solve. When I was in Boston last month, I stumbled across the famed Salmagundi Hat Shop in Jamaica Plain and splurged on an asymmetrical fedora in burgundy wool. (They had a staggering 12,000 hats in their inventory. I allowed myself only one.) Until I reach the next plateau, I’m donning a hat almost every day—inside and out. 

“Even indoors?” you ask. Listen, dear sister: if you’ve worn extremely short hair, by now you should be accustomed to receiving sidelong glances. Give ‘em something interesting to gawk at. That’s my motto. The only time you are obligated to remove your hat is when it impedes someone’s view at a public performance or event. Otherwise, consider it part of your outfit. Hats are a beautiful solution to hide a growing style. Choose one that compliments your face and you’ll ask yourself why you even bother with hair.

Take out a small loan for hair tools and products.

(One of my bad hair days, but an otherwise good day with Indiana’s former poet laureate, Joyce Brinkman. I used pomade and tucked my hair behind the ears.)

I don’t know how much I’ve spent on hair products since I began the growth process. If I knew, I’m afraid the cost-benefit analysis might tempt me to abort this mission. When you wear short hair, most of your beauty budget goes to haircuts. That changes when you begin to grow.

You’ll need tools and products—lots of them. Blow dryers, brushes, combs, curling irons, flat irons, curlers, headbands, shampoos, conditioners, creams and sprays—all things I had no use for when my hair was short. Some of them will work. Some won’t. I try not to grieve over the money. Growing your hair is an adventure, and like all adventures, it doesn’t come without a cost.

(An embarrassing tsunami of praise after I updated my Facebook profile with this photo.)

Embrace change.

Growing my hair has been less about appearances than you might think. For me, it was about proving to myself that I have the discipline to make a change and tough things out.

When you reach middle age, you have a stronger sense of who you are and what’s right for you. What other people think of you matters less. That’s a good trait until it’s not anymore.

I started growing my hair because I wondered if there might be something better for me than the cut that had defined me for decades. Sometimes you have to chuck old ideas and habits before you can change. At a minimum, you must consider the possibility that you’ve been wrong about everything. Otherwise, you end up like Loretta.

I worked with Loretta in one of my first jobs after college during the early 1980s. A gorgeous brunette with a Brooklyn accent, Loretta was my mother’s age, and she wore a bouffant style straight out of the 1960s, just like her heavily-painted brows, eyeliner and cat-eye glasses. There is no doubt that Loretta had once rocked this look, but twenty-five years later, she was a caricature of her former self. Studying Loretta, I made a mental note: never grow so attached to a look that you can’t give it up.

If you’re in the thick of growing your hair, hang in there. Perhaps you’ll find a new style that feels authentic to you at this stage in life. Perhaps you won’t.

I’m still reluctant about where my project is headed. Is it possible that I’ll get a year into the project and cut it all off? I might. I’ve done it before. I’m grateful to everyone who has encouraged and cajoled me through the process, but with all due respect to your aesthetic sensibilities, my hair is not for you.

Yes, it is softer and more feminine with a little more length on it, but don’t be surprised if I backtrack. If I do, I probably won’t revert to my old style. It’ll be something more like this:

My eau de toilette (as my husband calls my morning prep time) is a good 45 minutes longer than before. My hair is not easy to style. I love wearing it short because it frees time for things I value more than my appearance.

Even if it isn’t my most winning look, I hope my ultra-short hair has always reflected what my closest friends know about me: I’m often practical. I avoid superficial things. And I have a tendency to resist conforming to a tight mold that someone else has handed me.

Friends and readers, feel free to suggest a style for me! I’m still surveying options that might work with my severe cowlicks and fine texture.

Life is short. Wear the good stuff.

My parents are in their 80s, and there isn’t much I can buy them that outweighs the time my siblings and I spend with them. When we do shop for them, we look for things that either make their life better, or something that’s strictly sentimental.

There is almost nothing more dear to my mom than her kids and grandkids, although lately, her great-grandkids have been giving the rest of us a run for our money.

Lately, Mom seems to worry about us more than ever. Frankly, I don’t understand how she has the bandwidth to fret about three generations, but she manages. What she really wants is for all of us (simultaneously) to do good things, live right and be happy. That’s a lot to ask when you’re looking at a family of 35 people.

When Messages in Metal reached out to me to select a product for review, I spied this lovely sterling silver hammered necklace and thought of Mom immediately. The sterling silver looks great with her hair. I had it personalized with all four of our names. It arrived in a beautiful gift box within a few days of my order. When I presented it to her one evening after our family Thanksgiving gathering, she was delighted.

This necklace came with a nice 20-inch chain plus a 2-inch extender that makes it work perfectly over a bulky turtleneck, which is how Mom wore it the next day. This same design came with other options, including one with birthstones for each child. 

I love the fact that Messages in Metal jewelry is made and personalized in the good ‘ole USA—in Montana, to be exact. I want to be clear that this was gifted to me by Messages in Metal. Under the circumstances, it’s difficult to imagine that I would say anything unkind. Even so, I do heartily recommend their personalized jewelry as a possible holiday gift. My next favorite gift idea: these charming name necklaces.

Sometimes, I wonder what my parents think when they look at this massive family and see what happened because they met and fell in love. It’s just such a great reminder that everything we do ripples outward. They are still the sweetest couple, and I think our whole family feels blessed by the depth of their love. They make it looks so easy.

Life is short. Wear the good stuff.

I left for Barcelona, Spain on January 15, 2017 and quietly cried into my hands as the plane’s wheels ascended above the runway. Of course I was excited; of course I was nervous. I didn’t know what to expect during my semester abroad, and the sheer amount of “unknown” that awaited me was paralyzing. Granted, I’d lived in a small, paradisiacal coastal town in Malaga, Spain, for three weeks in high school, but I had never really been away from home long-term—especially not as a full-time college student within one of Europe’s most densely-populated cities.

I thoroughly believed that my extensive pre-departure research (pretty much every search result available over this world-famous Catalonian region) would suffice. I feverishly hoped that, along with my notebook full of research notes, I would be able to rely on the adventure-seekers before me to pave the way toward a successful experience abroad.

Ultimately, Barcelona turned out to be a game of trial and error in which I constantly faced trials, and made what felt like millions of errors. By departure time in May, I could quite literally feel a newfound sense of womanhood pulsing through my veins as a result of seeing this tumultuous experience through.

The vast, wondrous and unpredictable land of Barcelona had undoubtedly changed me, and I left wanting so much more of what she had to offer. Successfully meeting one challenge after another resulted in highs unlike anything I’d ever encountered back home, and I felt a bleak sort of emptiness at the thought of ever living stagnantly again.

The truth is that—although travel is extremely rewarding and worth every potential risk—it’s hard to be an inexperienced American living abroad, and it’s simply not enough to assume that everything will somehow work out. This one in a million opportunity is worth doing right the first time.

Here’s part one of my tips for blending in when visiting a foreign country.

Don’t assume you’ll be welcomed with open arms. Tourism is a big issue in Barcelona. The image of American tourists that comes to mind for many locals are your stereotypical “spring breakers,” and locals will treat them as such. It’s important to know what you’re going up against as an American abroad.

Get familiar with the language. The best way to feel like you fit in—aside from realizing the often-impossible task of actually fitting in—is to be familiar with the language. All you really need is “simple” comprehension (not fluent, but not beginner level) of the native language. This will not only help you identify your surroundings and understand foreign texts such as menus, maps and signs, but will also aid in the process of local acceptance. It’s a huge gesture—and one that will massively distinguish you from the average tourist—to speak to locals in their native tongue.

It won’t, however, grant you a single perk (nor should it) to waltz in and stay within your comfortable confinements while operating beneath an entirely different set of expectations. In other words, if you plan on treating a foreign country like an extension of America, you’re not going to get the full experience. Although learning a new language is difficult, challenging and an opportunity that a lot of people can’t afford, if you really want to get the most out of traveling abroad, having a grasp on the language will get you far and wide. Knowing the language ensures that vendors aren’t going to go out of their way to rip you off by charging slightly more than they would a local.

Tone it down. If you grew up in the United States in an English-speaking household, you most likely have an American accent—even if you don’t think you do. After one becomes acclimated to hearing more delicate sounding languages (such as French, Spanish, or in my case, Catalán) all the time, the sound of American English sounds like—to put it gingerly—nails on a chalkboard. If you truly want to blend into a foreign country, and find yourself within any sort of confined space (metro, small shops, restaurants, etc.), speak as little or as quietly as possible to limit unwanted attention. By the end of my trip, I was able to distinguish an American’s presence by the sound of their laughter. Now, imagine what it’s like to hear American English from unattuned ears.

Be as inconspicuous as possible. I made sure to never travel in large groups of Americans, ESPECIALLY if we were all students and blatantly appeared to be such. Avoid carrying or displaying backpacks, textbooks, clothing with school logos, and other items. By traveling in these cringe-worthily obvious groups, you’re basically putting a big, flashing light above your heads that says, “Target us. We’re ignorant foreigners.” After only about a month, it made me extremely uneasy to even have one or two Americans traveling by my side. Out of safety reasons, I began to prefer to keep to myself and live life as an inconspicuous fly on the wall. As result, I eliminated almost all of the unwanted head turns, stares and whispers that I got before adopting this personal rule. Flying under the radar is NEVER a bad thing as an American abroad, and it’s in your best interests to remember that.

Practice caution with valuables. When out in public, I tried to keep my back against the wall (if possible) so that pickpockets’ couldn’t target me, especially within confined, hectic and populated spaces like the metro. Pickpockets’ are often so slick and professional that you can’t feel or detect the fact that your belongings are being tampered with in the first place. I made sure to always keep my eyes and ears alert, constantly searching and scanning the perimeter for any unusual developments as I went about my schedule each day. It’s an odd transition to go from feeling (relatively) safe when you’re walking around in the U.S., to constantly feeling like someone is out to get you while abroad, but rest assured that the paranoia eases as you take more and more steps to thoughtfully adapt.

Don’t feel inclined to give another stranger the benefit of the doubt. If you have a gut feeling that you’re being targeted, or could be, listen to yourself. I highly suggest never putting your trust in strangers, and always taking your belongings with you. If you’re a student and intend on studying in public domains, don’t leave your laptop out and backpack sprawled open if you temporarily leave the area. Pack everything up, and only leave behind items that you’re willing to lose, like writing utensils and notebooks. When traveling via any sort of public transportation, don’t fall asleep and expect to wake up with all of your money and valuables still intact. It’s wise to not fall asleep or let your guard down anywhere except your home base—and even then, I’d still encourage a slight sense of wariness.

Be street smart when you’re on the move. An appropriate demeanor while walking around is absolutely crucial to your safety and well-being. Always, always, always look confident and assured of yourself, even if you’re the farthest thing from it. As my grandmother Nana said throughout my adolescence, “Fake it until you make it.” Don’t ever show others your hand of cards. If you have to physically force yourself to look at ease when, on the inside, you’re melting into a puddle of fear, do it.

There’s actual psychological evidence to prove that the concept surrounding “Fake it until you make it” is real. Refuse to let on that you’re afraid—even if someone is quite clearly following you, unrelentingly staring or whistling at you to get your attention. Stay strong. The second that someone senses vulnerability or weakness—especially in a foreigner who clearly doesn’t know the lay of the land—you become an easy target for practically anything. Keep your head up. Literally.

For me, it helped to never leave the house without a pair of sunglasses—I could do as I pleased without fear that my eyes would give me away if confronted in an awkward situation. The comfort and safety that sunglasses provided truly helped me navigate unfamiliar streets, sounds and sights.

Having pepper spray tucked in my bag at all times also didn’t hurt my sense of comfort when out walking alone. I never had to use it, but I was happy and reassured to have it just in case.

Headphones are a total lifesaver. Listening to your favorite songs as you take in all of the new sights and surroundings makes you feel like you’re starring in a movie. Besides that, conveniently pretending like you didn’t hear someone’s catcall is always a good trick to have up your sleeve.

Don’t walk around with your phone in your face, looking at maps, quite obviously acting lost. Staring nervously at a map while backtracking and stumbling in the same general area for five minutes will blow your cover. You don’t want people to know that you’re a foreigner while in a foreign country—you just don’t.

Therefore, by quite obviously looking lost and consequentially marking yourself as a tourist, your belongings and safety are in jeopardy. It’s not a wild assumption to think that tourists carry a lot of valuables and cash on them because, stupidly, most do. While abroad, I didn’t use my iPhone as an actual phone out of fear that it’d get stolen. iPhones aren’t the norm for cell phones in Spain as they are in the U.S., and they really stand out because of it. I didn’t want to have to deal with losing all of my data while in a different country, so I bought a cheap, local phone and a contract-less mobile plan to better assimilate and be able to use maps more overtly.

I don’t recommend mindlessly scrolling on your phone or texting while walking out in public either. Staying alert does not mean checking Instagram. Unless you want to run the risk of being pickpocketed, it’s crucial to keep your valuables tucked away and out of sight at all times.

Be wary of the political tensions that exist in other countries. Although Barcelona is technically a part of Spain, now more than ever, the Catalonians and Spaniards are divided over a referendum for Catalonia to become independent/autonomous from Spain. Both sides of this debate are very hostile towards each another, and compromise is seemingly unheard of. Educate yourself on these political differences before going abroad, and remain neutral in public settings.

For your safety, steer clear of any and all political demonstrations, and absolutely do not take sides.

Don’t offer your opinion, join in conversations, act like you know what you’re talking about, or get involved in business that doesn’t pertain to you. It’s better to just sit back and listen when a local brings the topic up—they actually live there, and the referendum would directly impact their lives—not yours. This goes for any inquiries about American politics too. Keep it brief. Keep it general. Keep it moving.

Rachel Auten is an Indianapolis writer who recently graduated from DePauw University, where she studied Spanish and writing. This is her first guest post for DHD Vintage, and I’m grateful for her travel tips as I contemplate a trip to Paris next fall.

What advice do you have about traveling alone as a woman, either domestically or abroad?

Life is short. Wear the good stuff.

Eight years ago today, this blog got it’s first post. A lot of things have changed since then—especially me!

I first thought I’d be blogging mostly about vintage fashion, but that proved to be a bit confining for the renaissance girl that I am.

Today I want to thank all the friends and readers who continue to follow even after I veered far from the original fashion blogging track.

To celebrate my anniversary, I’m inviting friends to share a story about their best fashion memory—and I have a free gift for all who share.

Submit your story here or in social media with the hashtag #lifeinyesterdaysclothes. In exchange, I’ll send you a free set of the Vintage Pink Sweater Notecards AND make a $10 donation to Pink Ribbon Connection (PRC), a local not-for-profit that supports people who are in treatment and recovery for breast cancer.

Yesterday was PRC’s annual fashion show, and I was there selling notecards as part of the fundraiser. As usual, I donned the remarkable pink sweater that inspired the cards illustrated by artist Sarah Anderson. What everyone loves about the vintage sweater: the neckline is designed with its own “pink ribbon” almost as if it was meant just for this purpose.

We generated $250 in notecard sales, thanks to the generosity of the women below. (All but one in the collage is a survivor.)

Among them was Jayna, a sister to my precious friend Jennifer S. (Pictured below.) Earlier this year, Jennifer was diagnosed with breast cancer, and she is just getting her mojo back. They came together and were seated with Jennifer’s healthcare providers at IU Health West Hospital.

One of the most meaningful aspects of blogging has been fundraising on behalf of PRC. With your help, we’ve been able to contribute all proceeds from the cards to help people recovering from breast cancer.

That’s close to $750 total over the past three years. And while that may not sound like a fortune, it’s my hope that our fundraising project has inspired other people to do even the smallest things with great passion and love. Here is the video that explains how it all started.

I have some fun new projects emerging this year, and while I may be a little less consistent about feeding this space, I’ll keep you up-to-date on changes. Deepest thanks for your encouragement and support!

Life is short. Wear the good stuff.

Dee Thornton and I are members of the same church, and it was there one Sunday morning that I learned she was running for a seat in Indiana’s 5th Congressional District of the United States House of Representatives. I’ve never forgotten the fact that Dee and her husband were among the first people to welcome me when I first started attending her church.

What I remember most about those early conversations was her genuine interest in me and my circumstances. She was smart, engaging and compassionate. It was obvious that she wasn’t just going through the motions. Her queries were the start of a real relationship.

For many of us who know Dee through our religious affiliation, it’s exciting to think someone of her caliber may be representing Hoosiers in Congress after the November elections.

I know the 5th District. It’s conservative and affluent. Through my work and personal life, I feel like I have a window on the mainstream views its constituents have about government. I assumed that Dee was facing a tough race, but she doesn’t necessarily see it that way.

Dee considers this coming election as perhaps the most important one in our lifetime. “Everything that has been accomplished in our country over the past 60 years is at risk,” she says. “If we don’t change the representation we have, I think we will see so many reversals of history that will be bad for the future of this country.”

I asked her to explain more about her candidacy and why she is the right person to replace Susan Brooks, the three-term Republican incumbent. Here are highlights from our conversation. If you’re not from Indiana or the 5th District, I hope you’ll read this and be encouraged that no matter how ugly political discourse has become, there is reason for hope.

A Fresh Voice

From Dee’s perspective, the 5th District deserves a representative who has the mindset of a public servant. For her, that means listening to constituents and practicing open communication. She says she’ll approach communication in a far different manner than incumbent Susan Brooks. “Have you ever tried to speak with Susan Brooks?” Dee asks. “If you attend one of her town hall meetings, you are called back to a private room where you ask your question. Three or four minutes later, the meeting is over and the next person is called.”

Dee has heard from voters who attempted to speak with Brooks about her vote on the Affordable Care Act, but were escorted out of her office. “People were just trying to understand her vote,” she says. “If you vote a certain way on legislation, you should be able to explain it.” Many in the 5th District want change and do not feel Brooks has listened to their concerns well enough to represent them for another term. “When you lose sight of the fact that you’re there as a public servant, you’ve really lost your way,” she says.

My knowledge and life experience have prepared me well to serve in the United States House of Representatives.

Not a Career Politician

For the first time in her life, Dee is free from work and family obligations that would prevent her from being a devoted public servant. As a female candidate who has never held an elected office, she is often questioned about her motivation for running. “If the qualifier to represent people in Congress is to be a career politician, I think that’s wrong,” she says. “My knowledge and life experience have prepared me well to serve in the United States House of Representatives.” (Check out her bio to learn more about her.) 

I see my candidacy as part of a transformative government that brings in new leaders with fresh ideas, working across the aisle, unafraid to tackle big issues in a way that’s beneficial for all.

Getting Beyond Politics

Dee recognizes that her campaign is occurring amidst one of the most combative eras of American politics. She says the root causes for these conditions are manifold. “Many years ago, we started to understand globalization and what that means for our country,” she says. “Our economies have changed, and it requires us to look at things differently. We have a situation where people are fighting for control and jockeying for position. That’s crept into our politics and separated people to the extent that we always think it has to be one group or the other. As we’ve moved into an era of greater technology, we have large groups of people who have been left behind. The fact that their needs are not being addressed has brought us to what we are dealing with today.”

One antidote to that is to stop framing everything in a political context. “We have to start thinking about people and the kitchen table issues they are dealing with day in and day out,” Dee says.

Too often, people abandon the political system because they don’t see government making much of a difference for them, yet they are paying taxes that support services for the whole nation. “I think we need more people in public service who are governing for all people—not just a select few,” she says. “I see my candidacy as part of a transformative government that brings in new leaders with fresh ideas, working across the aisle, unafraid to tackle big issues in a way that’s beneficial for all.” She says legislators need to understand the full scope of any problem and avoid implementing short-term solutions.

Joining Together Around Shared Goals

Americans should expect our leaders to come up with common sense, responsible solutions—solutions that are good for all of society, not just a few special interests that we hold dear. Voters should think more globally about their elected officials rather than settling on a candidate because of his or her position on one or two issues, according to Dee. A political system where one party becomes known as the gun-rights party and the other is anti-gun is far too simplistic.

Dee would like to see both parties come together around goals such as having affordable, quality healthcare for all Americans. “The Affordable Care Act wasn’t a perfect piece of legislation, but it was a start,” Dee says. “Congress should be looking at ways to make it better—not tearing it down before it has a chance to work.”

She believes government has a role in leveling the playing field so that all Americans have access to affordable healthcare. “If this particular issue is not addressed, it will have significant consequences for generations,” she says.

The Guts to Address Healthcare

Dee is critical of a system where big businesses fund campaigns that represent their interests. She says candidates shouldn’t be able to buy their constituents. “If you think about the kind of money that’s sitting out there to invest in advertising, trash talking, and promotion of self-interests, it’s amazing,” she says. “It’s not as if it [healthcare for all Americans] couldn’t happen in this country. It absolutely could happen. There are plenty of reports and research that indicate Medicare for all could be done financially. We just need a group of people who have the guts to make it happen.”

The GOP characterizes Medicare as an entitlement program that needs to be diminished. Dee views it as a very efficient system that should be expanded. The majority of the voters in the 5th District are over the age of 50. A significant percentage of them have pre-existing conditions long before they are eligible for Medicare. She believes they should have earlier access to Medicare.

She is against reducing or withholding benefits for people who’ve paid into the system for decades. For example, she cites a statistic showing lower- or middle-income couple with a combined income of $44,000 to $50,000 a year may pay as much as $750,000 into Medicare before they are eligible for benefits. “And now we’re telling them that our government is going to try to get rid of that program or take money from it to the tune of $1.5 trillion to pay for the tax cut given to the top 1.5 percent and big corporations? Tell me how that works.”

…We certainly don’t want to single out news we don’t like as fake or purposely create distrust. Freedom of the press is one of the most important aspects of our country.

A Well-Informed Public

Dee sees media as a fundamental part of democracy. She is concerned about Americans’ distrust of all media. “It’s extremely dangerous to call the news ‘fake,’” she says. “The news is a way for people to educate themselves and stay informed. I recommend that people vary their sources. And we certainly don’t want to single out news we don’t like as fake or purposely create distrust. Freedom of the press is one of the most important aspects of our country.”

Acknowledging the increasing role of social media as a news source—one that isn’t designed to provide us with credible, balanced information—she is happy to see Facebook implementing new safeguards that will make them a more honest broker of information.

I’ve taken a lot of space to explain more about Dee, but how could I not? Even though she’s not my representative in Congress, I believe she would be great for the 5th District. You really need to meet her and decide for yourself, and this Thursday, you can.

At 6 p.m. on October 4, I’m co-hosting a meet-and-greet event for Dee at the Ironworks Club Room, Level 2, 2727 East 86th Street, Indianapolis, IN. (My co-hosts are Deborah Dorman and Jenny Bizzoco. Please RSVP at deborah.dorman@encoresir.com or (317) 935-7053.)

We are serving a light buffet and welcome everyone to come discuss the issues one-on-one with Dee. Our democracy only works when we participate. If you can arrange to be free this evening, please don’t miss this opportunity to get involved!

Life is short. Do the good stuff.

Artist William Denton Ray addresses guests at the Harrison Center. 

Indianapolis is a year-round mecca for arts organizations. Naturally, not everyone agrees with me on that point, but here’s my rebuttal: if it weren’t true, then why am I so often torn by all the local options to be transported by music, dance, theatre and visual arts? (Photo credit: Joanna Beatty Taft.)

If you’re an arts junkie too, then here’s an Indianapolis experience you shouldn’t miss. Why? Because it combines multiple art forms in a single event.

Gathering around art and food

Art Dish is the brainchild of Joanna Beatty Taft, executive director at the Harrison Center, one of the city’s catalysts for using the arts to build a stronger community—and here I’m speaking of something much deeper than just beautification. More on that in another post. 

As home to 26 artist studios, gallery space and numerous community-building programs that make a difference in our city, the Harrison Center is a lively place to get an art education, to support local artists and to meet new people. (I had the honor of writing about them in the October issue of Pattern Magazine and came away impressed by the breadth of their impact. Watch for Pattern on news stands or in your mail. This issue is all about visual art and artists.) 

Taft is a big proponent of gathering people around food and engaging them with art in approachable and fun ways. The concept for Art Dish came after a renovation that removed a dropped ceiling in the main gallery of the Harrison Center, revealing four extra feet of vertical space.

With the dropped ceiling gone, the space was filled with unnecessary framing lumber. “Everyone assumed we would throw it away,” Taft says. Instead, they commissioned an artist to build a table using the discarded lumber.

Photo credit: Polina Osherov

While the 24-seat table was in progress, Taft was peppered with questions about where it would be stored. One day she looked up at the gallery’s raised ceiling and thought, “We have lots of room to store it.” The Harrison Center hired a rigging company to devise a system that nests the table in the ceiling. It’s now the center of really great conversation at each monthly Art Dish.

What to expect

Art Dish begins with a casual hour for guests and a featured artist to mingle over libations and hors d’oeuvres. When dinner is ready, a beautifully-set table descends to the floor of the main gallery from its resting place in the ceiling—a ceremony choreographed by local dancers and set to original music composed for the occasion. (Watch the video above and you’ll see one of the dancers avert a near calamity after the table lands gently on the floor.)

A celebrity chef caters each Art Dish, a dinner of several courses paired with wine. (At the September dinner I attended, one guest generously added a bonus magnum of Bordeaux to share. He had blended himself!) At the September dinner, Chris Eley of Goose the Market was the featured chef.

If you’re one of those people who doesn’t like small talk (guilty), but thrives on a few meaningful conversations that take you further than all other conversations combined, then this dinner is for you. (It was all very down-to-earth, substantive and fun. I only say that because I’m staunchly against anything that’s “high-brow,” pretentious or smug. Forgive me. It’s a personal problem—and I’m working on it—but it’s not JUST a personal problem. It’s also a problem that is killing support for the arts.)

From a dinner earlier this summer. Photo credit: Polina Osherov

Sparkling conversation with an artist

Between courses everyone has a chance to ask the artist questions and discuss the art as a group. We talked candidly about everything from the entrepreneurial ways of successful artists to self-taught art and the natural creativity every human being has.

I had the good fortune to be seated next to September’s featured artist, William Denton Ray. (A visit to his site doesn’t do him justice and I’ll explain why later.) It was an unfair advantage for learning more about his work, and I took it. In my next post, I’ll share some of the highlights of our conversation and show you some of Ray’s work.

I hope you’ll take this post as a nudge to explore the local art scene through this multi-sensory experience. Start watching the Harrison Center now for 2019 Art Dish dates. They’re already sold out for 2018, so you’ll need to register well in advance for 2019 dinners. 

Would anyone like to join me at a 2019 Art Dish? It was so fun that I’d do it all over again. It was nothing short of life-changing for me, largely because of the people I met. Sometime, I’ll tell you about that.

Life is short. Wear the good stuff.

Now in her seventh decade (I know…it’s not fair, is it?), Deborah supports a variety of local charities and non-profits—everything from Coburn Place, a safe home for families affected by domestic violence, to the Indianapolis Museum of Art Fashion Arts Society. An outspoken Democratic, human rights advocate and critic of the current administration, she does that thing Senator Cory Booker suggests as a response to the hateful rhetoric a new president has empowered, “…taking small increased steps of service that, along with others doing the same, could make a significant difference.” Case in point: she recently hosted an organizational meeting at her home to recruit volunteers for Indiana’s state and local elections and invited her considerable network of friends to attend.

I got to know Deborah when we worked together on a volunteer project—well enough that I knew she would have an opinion about Melania Trump’s recent fashion faux pas (or was it a political faux pas?) The one where the first lady visited an immigrant shelter for children at the U.S.-Mexico border, wearing a jacket with the words “I don’t care. Do you?” on the back.

Deliberate style

First ladies (Melania Trump included) are notoriously intentional about their wardrobes. In public life, clothes (and words) matter, but Melania’s publicity team responded by saying it was just a jacket…that there was no intention behind her choice. They later tried to recover by saying the message was directed at the media. (In other words, it was intentional—we just misunderstood the target.) Deborah’s response was succinct: “Well, if that was the case, I think I’d advise her not to wear something that can be so easily misinterpreted.”

If ever there were someone conscious of the potential for using style to send a message, it’s Deborah. “I never leave the house without a plan,” she says. “I really dress for myself. I’ll pick one thing I want to wear and build everything else around it. The final icing on the cake is my eyewear.”

She is known for her meticulous look, upbeat attitude and trademark eyewear—usually sunglasses. With a collection of over 60 eyeglasses, Deborah is deliberate about choosing designs that suit her wardrobe and her petite face—not so deliberate about the brand. She is just as likely to buy an inexpensive pair of glasses as a designer label. “Eyewear has become more popular, and so many companies are coming out with very stylish and fancy designs,” she says. “I always try them on, but I won’t buy unless they look good on my face. The glasses shouldn’t be wearing me. I should be wearing the glasses.”

Her passion for eyeglasses started as a girl, when she wore them to correct vision. One of her uncles owned an eyewear company, and that gave her easy access to the latest designs. When she saw a cool new style or color, she bought it. “I noticed that I felt good in glasses and, since it was a necessity, I just turned that into part of my image,” Deborah says.

Later on, she was also enamored with the protection sunglasses gave her blue eyes from sun and glaring indoor lights. After cataract surgery, her eyes became especially sensitive to bright light. Even at an inside event, it’s not uncommon to see her in sunglasses, a touch of glamour that stimulates conversation almost everywhere she goes. “Every day of my life, someone will stop me and say ‘Oh, I love your eyewear. Where did you get it?’” she says. “It’s just a pair of glasses, but it gives me the opportunity to offer a huge smile and thank them for making me feel so good.”

Do people ever ask why she’s wearing sunglasses indoors? Of course, they do. “I’m not hiding behind my glasses. I’m just comfortable in them,” she says. “When people ask a question like that, I never take it personally. I always have an answer.”

The mother of reinvention

At this stage of life, Deborah says she can handle whatever life throws her way. Her experience as a successful real estate agent and occasional model has conditioned her to climb most any mountain and to retain her confidence no matter what happens. “When I was younger, I spent a lot of time wondering why I didn’t get a modeling job or why someone wouldn’t use me as their agent,” she says. “Eventually, I learned that it wasn’t personal. Maybe they chose another realtor because they already had a relationship, or maybe another model got the job because they fit an image the creators had for an ad; it wasn’t because I wasn’t pretty enough or good enough.”

Deborah believes in hard work and preparation as a formula for success, but no matter how hard you work, everyone tastes failure at some point. Accepting this reality and moving forward is the only way to become a confident person. “I am always so grateful for a world of rejection,” she says. “No matter what happens to me, I always try to dust myself off and reinvent myself to be the person I feel I should be. I’m still searching. Reinvention keeps me feeling alive.”

I adore Deborah’s high personal standards and never-say-die attitude as much as her signature style. Wherever you are when you read this, I hope you have access to strong women who are part of your support system. A good role model is like a de facto life coach—only less expensive. What’s your latest step toward reinvention?

Life is short. Wear the good stuff.

The first woman radio DJ in Indianapolis was a spitfire. After graduating cum laude from Butler University in 1933 with a bachelor’s degree in public speaking, Gwendolyn Schort Burris, like most college-educated women of her era, had very few options for applying her education. She did what smart, ambitious people have always done when they can’t find a slot in the world: Burris created her own opportunity.

A little nobody

Burris earned a living as a private drama teacher. In 1937, she caught a lucky break when a radio producer at WFBM, the ancestor of what is now WRTV, asked her to co-host a local radio program aimed at women. She went on to host two other radio programs. “In those days, women just did not do anything,” Burris said in a 1977 interview. “I just couldn’t believe it. Here I was, a little nobody, and yet I was going to become a radio personality.”

Burris died in 2008 at the age of 97, but not before demonstrating that she was far from “a little nobody.” She was active in numerous civic affairs, including the Women’s Affairs Committee, the Stub Club of the Civic Theatre, the Indiana State Symphony Society, and held progressive leadership roles in the Women’s Department Club’s Literature and Drama Department and the Indianapolis Council of United Church Women. Burris was also a Girl Scout leader and participated in fundraising for the American Red Cross and the United Fund.

What really caught my eye, though, was her involvement as a leader in her church where she taught classes for all ages, served as a deaconess and was eventually elected as an elder—a leadership role that is still reserved for men in many churches today.

Here I was, a little nobody, and yet I was going to become a radio personality.

Losing her voice—and her dignity

Burris would have been 66-years-old when she was interviewed in 1977 for the Indiana State Library’s oral history collection. What is so poignant about her narrative are small traces of evidence that show how women were marginalized, discounted and quite often humiliated while making their way through a male-dominated society.

Hear what she says about losing her voice after being selected to read a cigarette commercial during a broadcast of Benny Goodman and his band, playing on a local stage.

There were two of us who were asked to try out, and bless Pat, I was selected! Talk about excitement. Well, here I was, as I said, so excited to be on the radio in the first place in Indianapolis. Well, the funny thing is, I was just too excited, because in the middle of the commercial […] I just couldn’t talk. I swallowed, and then I swallowed a second time—fortunately, probably at the right pause place. But, oh, I shall never forget…never forget how I was frowned upon by Mr. Goodman himself, who thought, ‘Well, here’s a nincompoop from Indianapolis who can’t even read.’ I was as low as low could be, but again, Ray, it was just the stage fright.

Three decades have passed since Burris gave that interview, and women are still working out their place as equals in God’s kingdom. All too often, we women don’t own the confidence and courage God designed all human beings to have.

Lately I’ve been drawing inspiration from some of the women profiled in Karen Karbo’s book, In Praise of Difficult Women. Karbo shares insights drawn from a band of sisters who’ve made their mark on the world, survived injustices and paved the way for other women by being “difficult.”

 Are you up for being difficult? What keeps you from being the confident woman you should be? 

Life is short. Wear the good stuff.