Spotlight On A Laid-Back Lush Palm Beach House By Lindsey Lane Design

Wednesday, July 11, 2018

It was in a rawther blasé fashion that I flipped through the latest issue of House Beautiful. I was disappointed that the hardly-glossy, much-more-newspaper-y paper which had been (noticeably) used for the first time for the prior issue had been used again, thus suggesting a permanent switch (downgrade) rather than an isolated glitch. House Beautiful having to bootstrap-it to compensate for blah-blah-blah doesn’t exactly enliven the spirit, you know? 

And for two, nothing in the (flat) pages really caught my eye. That was until I flipped to a pool house designed by Lindsey Lane.

perfectly palm beach pool house, designed by Lindsey Lane. Well, hello there, perfectly inviting pool-adjacent splendor-den! 

Sure, I’m a sucker for blue and white, but it’s more than that. 

It takes a particular skill to pull off a look, a vibe, without it looking too try-hard, theme-y, or obvious. Lindsey Lane, IMHO, has said skill. 

The house (to which the pool house belongs) is unapologetically Palm Beach, and yet it still manages to surprise, and to feel fresh and timeless. Maybe it’s the fact that the home practices a careful balance of bold patterns and preppy colors with subdued rooms awash with neutrals. It’s equal parts stimulating as it is serene. Peep it below and tell me if you agree:  Tour the laid-back lush Palm Beach house that brilliantly blends minimalist neutrals with coastal flair--designed by Lindsey Lane Tour the laid-back lush Palm Beach house that brilliantly blends minimalist neutrals with coastal flair--designed by Lindsey Lane Tour the laid-back lush Palm Beach house that brilliantly blends minimalist neutrals with coastal flair--designed by Lindsey Lane Tour the laid-back lush Palm Beach house that brilliantly blends minimalist neutrals with coastal flair--designed by Lindsey Lane Tour the laid-back lush Palm Beach house that brilliantly blends minimalist neutrals with coastal flair--designed by Lindsey Lane Tour the laid-back lush Palm Beach house that brilliantly blends minimalist neutrals with coastal flair--designed by Lindsey Lane Tour the laid-back lush Palm Beach house that brilliantly blends minimalist neutrals with coastal flair--designed by Lindsey Lane Tour the laid-back lush Palm Beach house that brilliantly blends minimalist neutrals with coastal flair--designed by Lindsey Lane Tour the laid-back lush Palm Beach house that brilliantly blends minimalist neutrals with coastal flair--designed by Lindsey Lane Tour the laid-back lush Palm Beach house that brilliantly blends minimalist neutrals with coastal flair--designed by Lindsey Lane Tour the laid-back lush Palm Beach house that brilliantly blends minimalist neutrals with coastal flair--designed by Lindsey Lane Tour the laid-back lush Palm Beach house that brilliantly blends minimalist neutrals with coastal flair--designed by Lindsey Lane Tour the laid-back lush Palm Beach house that brilliantly blends minimalist neutrals with coastal flair--designed by Lindsey Lane Tour the laid-back lush Palm Beach house that brilliantly blends minimalist neutrals with coastal flair--designed by Lindsey Lane Tour the laid-back lush Palm Beach house that brilliantly blends minimalist neutrals with coastal flair--designed by Lindsey Lane

The Extra Mile: Keep Your Car Clean & Organized With These 9 Insanely Helpful Tools

Tuesday, July 10, 2018

Mine was a driving family, a fact which I attribute to my dad’s having fallen prey, long ago, to the siren song of the road trip. He excites at the prospect of a long drive the way others might find themselves drawn to watch a football game, take a hike, or hop on a flight.

Yes, we spent so very many hours packed into our purple minivan, Dodge Caravan That Could-ing it. We routinely traversed the landscape (or state), the customary sing-a-long cassette tape on blast, my dad tapping out the beat on the steering wheel with his thumbs, the rest of us just hoping the urge to pee wouldn’t hit until the blessed blue of a Rest Stop sign appeared in the distance.

I loved those times the four of us spent crammed into that metal box on wheels, our every worldly possession we would need and also not need while away Tetris-ed into the trunk and under our feet. By “loved” of course I mean that even as a seven year old I “survived” the supposedly fun mild torture, and was consoled only by the knowledge that one day I would grow up and insist on flying anyplace with an airport.

But I can’t help but to wonder how my feelings might have differed were we to have, ahem, Lived Simply en el auto. Might I have felt less claustrophobic, for instance, if the environment were kept very clean and free from debris? Might I have delighted at the excursion more if the travel sets of checkers and Old Maid were to have been neatly contained in a convenient basket? If the car snacks had been placed in a sturdy tote, the trunk kept organized, its contents easily transported to and fro, what then?

Well, then, there’s a good chance I’d be following in my dad’s footsteps, thrilling at the prospect of the open road.

I mean, probably still definitely not.

But that stuff would have gone a helluva long way to making those endless journeys slightly more tolerable. 

In conclusion: whether you’re embarking on long road trips or just driving to the local pool this summer, I must remind you that your car is no less a place that you spend time than your home; its environment no less impactful on your overall sense of wellbeing than that of your house.

So keep it clean, if you would please. And give yourself and your family the structure and systems needed to Live Simply on the road. 

One day, your children will thank you. Or at least, they won’t refuse to drive distances in excess of twenty-five minutes.

And if you have no children…well then you really have zero excuses for not having an immaculate and beautifully organized car.

Right this way towards your cleanest & most organized car (and summer road trips!)

1. Drop Stop – the genius Shark Tank product that fills the gap between your seat and the middle console, preventing your every, tiniest possession from slipping just out of reach.

2. stone woven storage bin with handles – Nobody said your auto storage vessel had to scream I’M MADE FOR THE CAR.

3. grey foldable bin with handles (also in sage & silver) – Again, nobody said your auto storage vessel had to scream I’M MADE FOR THE CAR. This guy collapses easily when not in use. 

4. backseat trunk organizer – This guy hangs from your backseat, aka it takes up no actual floor-trunk space. 

5. collapsible, portable trunk organizer – The trunk organizer with over 1800 Amazon 5 star reviews. Enough said. 

6. auto trash can – Hang it anywhere; stop using your center console and cup holders for trash collection; winning. 

7. maggrip phone car mount – Hands-phoning and driving is so early 2000’s. Safety and visibility is the thing now. 

8. car wet/dry vacuum – A wet/dry vacuum that’s just for the car. It lives in the car (if you like), it’s powered by the car, it’s completely brilliant if you ask me. 

9. headrest hanger/hook – Finally, an answer for the age-old dilemma of where to put your purse (or backpack, or grocery bag, etc.) in the car.

 

 

 

Monday’s Meditation: On Choosing Openness Over ‘Stranger Danger’

Monday, July 9, 2018

[Psst: I’m back! Here’s what you missed: I frolicked in Greece for about two weeks, which was utterly heavenly, I returned to Seattle to do a few client projects, and then I jetted back to Detroit to be with my family. It’s been (a blur of) a month (a month!) since my last post, which is the longest I have ever taken off from the blog in all the many, many years of writing it. Thank you for the break. I love you now, Simply family, as ever.]Monday's Meditation: On Choosing Openness Over 'Stranger Danger'

We boarded our final ferry in Greece, claiming a booth across from a window. Several seats down the bench, a woman sat alone, reading a book. She looked polished, like a local professional who was perhaps (lucky girl) in the midst of her daily commute.

I watched her watch a woman sit in between the two of us, two small children in tow. The younger of the two was a girl who might lovingly be described as “vocal,” “rambunctious,” and “filled with that endlessly renewable energy of youth.”

The girl hung on her mother, whining loudly about being hungry (ostensibly; the outburst inspired her mother to unwrap a sandwich from the plastic package that to my eyes looked like a bag of chips).

The relative quiet that had existed on the boat prior to the young family’s arrival had been, quite unceremoniously, broken.

Polished, professional woman looked up from her book. She was straight-faced as she watched the girl jump up and down in front of her mother.

Mostly, adults eye strange children for sustained amounts of time for two reasons: 1. They find the child adorable, in which case they smile to themselves or they turn to the person next to them to remark on the presence of the adorable creature, or 2. they find the child immensely annoying and/or ill-behaved, and either cannot help but to look on with horror, or hope that their very conspicuous eye contact will provoke the parent to parent by way of public shame and self-consciousness. 

This was definitely a case of the latter instance; I was sure of it. That lady was pissed. She was regretting her seat choice. She would probably, almost definitely move.

I got involved in my own book for a while, the one I had spent the entirety of the trip wondering whether or not I had already read. The current essay didn’t feel as familiar as others had, and so it sufficiently captured my attention.

By the time I looked back over, the little girl and her brother were engaged in a game of running back and forth from the front of the boat to their mom. The two women, meanwhile, had struck up a pleasant conversation. They spoke in lilting Greek, laughing and nodding.

Evidently, I couldn’t have been more wrong about the woman’s feelings about the children.

“Greeks,” I shook my head in awe. “Not a single uptight one among them.”

The ferry having reached the port, we passengers streamed off the boat.

It was the usual sight: people rolling bags, drivers holding signs, cars, noise.

In the crowd of people, I spotted the family again. The mother clutched her daughter’s right hand; her left hand was safely tucked into the palm of their seatmate. The two women were bookends, laughing and talking as they hurried through the maze to the mother’s car. When they reached it, they kissed each other twice on the cheek before parting ways.

If I hadn’t known better, I would have mistaken them for long-time friends.

They didn’t linger together in their goodbye. Neither one pulled out a phone or a piece of paper to exchange telephone numbers or instagram handles. They were content to have connected during the journey.

That’s how easy it is, I thought, to make friends, to form connection. That’s how lovely it can be when people are intent on enjoying each other’s company.

There doesn’t need to be a friend in common to introduce two people, or even an easily discernible reason to engage.

It just takes us being present to each other. Putting down our book or our screen whenever the opportunity for genuine connection presents itself because genuine connection is always worthwhile and is always what we’re actually in search of.

All it takes is a kind word or a humorous remark to open a channel of connection where there once wasn’t one, to foster a feeling of community, and realize that maybe strangers are merely people we haven’t befriended yet.