Update: Both workshops are now fully booked. Please join our wait list.
There are, in my mind, two Californias. There is the one that I have spent half my life in, the northern part, which is full of rough coastlines and chilly wet winters and excellent backpacking and really good natural food stores and a certain spirited lifestyle that I do miss, even though I was too much of a yankee to have ever grasped it fully.
Then there is the other California, the southern part, where I have visited but never lived yet somehow have a whole section of my closet devoted to. TC has named it my "imaginary beach house wardrobe". This is where I keep my long and impractical caftans, some of them beyond floor length, and my floppy hat that is the opposite of sexy. Its also where I keep an ancient peasant blouse that was my mothers, plus a wrap skirt that was my aunt Jane's. There is a crocheted bikini top in there too. Its a rainbow pattern. I bought it in Mexico for seven dollars, which makes me feel better about the fact that I will never wear it in public.
These pieces have travelled with me to Italy and to Mexico, Hawaii and Florida, Long Island, New Mexico, and even the Jersey Shore, where the longer skirts especially felt a bit shy and out of place. But where they long to be, of course, and where they were imagined being worn when purchased, is on a terrace under a star filled dessert sky, in front of a roaring outdoor fire, surrounded by kilim rugs, moroccan poufs, a scruffy dog weaving around between bare legs and feet, and maybe even some - dare I say - macrame. Perhaps there is a VW bus parked nearby. Perhaps it is for sale and in excellent condition. A girl can hope. If Vermont exists in my DNA, Southern California resides comfortably - no, beautifully - in my overactive imagination.
Until recently I wasn’t sure that such a place existed. Now however, thanks to Leslie, I have discovered the Ace Hotel in Palm Springs. My fondness for the Ace Hotel chain is well documented. My stay at their Portland hotel ended with a bathrobe purchase. Their new York location has completely transformed the neighborhood it occupies, its bar is now far too hip for the likes of me and my peasant blouses. BUT Palm Springs? A macrame sculpture in the lobby? moroccan terraces, a turquoise pool, a spa made of yurts, and even a few outdoor fireplaces? Oh, and did I mention a perfect well lit event space for a dozen or so sewing machines within spitting distance of said pool?? They even have a bus. They said I can bring my dog. TC and the cat will veto that, but its nice to know. Based on the photos and reports, I won’t be the only person swanning about in a ridiculous caftan.
The good thing about a wardrobe made for a place like this is that it will only take me (and you) fifteen minutes to pack.
For more information on our Weekend Sewing Workshops in Palm Springs, please download this info sheet.