o c to b e r Savannah, GA
free!
skirt!is
www.skirt.com
Make something out of nothing. Make little nothings count. Make paperdolls out of magazine pages. Make a collage out of catalogs. Make a costume out of castoffs. Make a feast out of leftovers. Make a table out of a trash find. Make a garden in gallon can. Make believe until you
Believe in Yourself. Make anything new again with a can of paint. Make your own postcards. Make a drawing of the same thing every day for a month. Make up your own personal manifesto. Make an event out of making your bed.
Make up something to look forward to every morning. Make a lampshade out of a map. Make
a
journey
by
yourself.
Make a living out of what you love. Make love when it’s in short supply. Make an art out of living. Cover copy by Nikki Hardin, art by Gayle Kabaker
“And in the act of making things, just by living their daily lives, they also make history.” Anne Bartlett
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O C TO B E R
Publisher
Nikki Hardin publisher@skirt.com Art Director
Caitilin McPhillips caitilin.mcphillips@skirt.com National Editor
Margaret Pilarski margaret.pilarski@skirt.com Savannah Editor
Elena Fodera elena.fodera@skirt.com Advertising Director
Jane Townsend jane.townsend@savannahnow.com Sales Executive
Cinda Baker cinda.baker@skirt.com Graphic Designer
Britt Scott britt.scott@skirt.com Photography
Adriana Iris Boatwright Marianne Brown Nick Chiapinna Terry Duthu Stefanie Peal Office: 912.525.0740 Sales: 912.525.0740 FAX:
skirt! is all about women... their work, play, families, creativity, style, health and wealth, bodies and souls. skirt! is an attitude...spirited, independent, outspoken, serious, playful and irreverent, sometimes controversial, always passionate. CALENDAR SUBMISSIONS Send information elena.fodera@skirt.com, or mail to skirt! Savannah, 1375 Chatham Parkway Savannah, GA 31405
LETTERS TO THE EDITOR All letters must include the writer’s name and city/state.
WRITERS & ARTISTS Our guidelines are available online at skirt.com. Submit artwork or essays via e-mail to submissions@skirt.com.
FOLLOW US ON FACEBOOK AND TWITTER! Facebook.com/skirtsavannahhhi Twitter.com/skirtSavannah
The Make Issue FEATURES
Profile: Khiara Washington
Make It All-Natural �������������������������������������������������������������������� 12 Profile: Jessie Duthu
912.525.0746
Make It Yourself! �������������������������������������������������������������������������� 14 skirt! is published monthly and distributed free throughout the greater Savannah area. skirt! reserves the right to refuse to sell space for any advertisement the staff deems inappropriate for the publication. Unsolicited manuscripts must be accompanied by a self-addressed, stamped envelope. Letters to the editor are welcome, but may be edited due to space limitations. Press releases must be received by the 1st of the month for the following month’s issue. All content of this magazine, including without limitation the design, advertisements, art, photos and editorial content, as well as the selection, coordination and arrangement thereof, is Copyright © 2012, Morris Publishing Group, LLC. All Rights Reserved. No portion of this magazine may be copied or reprinted without the express written permission of the publisher. SKIRT!® is a registered trademark of Morris Publishing Group, LLC.
Profile: Elizabeth Seeger Women make more than 80% of all purchasing decisions.
Make It Successful ���������������������������������������������������������������������� 16 Local Loves...................................................................................24 Feel Good......................................................................................25
Women spend almost 2 of every 3 healthcare dollars.
The Apple Pie Defense
Amy Vansant................................................................................... 26 Women control 2/3 of the nation’s disposable income.
Women influence 80% of all car sales.
The Art of Goodbye
Stacy Appel..................................................................................... 28 Skirt! Style.....................................................................................35
IN EVERY ISSUE
Letter from the Publisher/Editor ����������������������������������������� 8 Calendar........................................................................................... 21 Skirt of the Month �������������������������������������������������������������������� 23 He’s So Original �������������������������������������������������������������������������� 31 Meet.................................................................................................... 37 Planet Nikki..................................................................................... 38
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Illustration by BerinMade Illustrated Paper Goods. berinmade.com
O C TO B E R
THE UNITED SKIRTS OF AMERICA
The United Skirts of America was founded on the blood, sweat and estrogen of our foremothers, who won us the freedom
Gayle Kabaker Gayle calls herself a creative spirit and is thrilled to be able
FROM THE PUBLISHER
The Make Issue I was cleaning out closets recently and found a big bag of assorted craft supplies from a trip to Michaels with a friend more than a year ago and left
to choose...to break
untouched since then. Frankly, I can no longer remember what possessed
The Rules, to wear
me to buy any of the stuff nor what possible projects I was planning. Most
combat boots or high
likely I was swept up by craft fever, in which I revert to a six-year-old when
heels, to run for office or run a marathon,
I’m confronted by rows of stickers, stamps and scissors. It’s a condition that makes me want to eat library paste and put glitter on my lunch box. That bag of ephemera is not my only stash. Consider the stack of magazines
to design and illustrate from
to form our own
and sheets of handmade Japanese paper I thought I would convert into
the Berkshires of Western
rock groups instead
sophisticated collages. Or the tubes of gouache and bottles of Mod Podge.
Massachusetts. From starting out in San Francisco as a
of being groupies, to
Or the rolls of washi tape and boxes of watercolor pencils. All of it waiting for the perfect idea or the right time to be ready, because God forbid I
fashion illustrator to recently
shatter Glass Ceilings
promoting concerts in the Pio-
and Glass Slippers, to
waiting for inspiration. Instead, I’m going to dump all that junk on the
shoot hoops instead
kitchen table and make something. Postcards I’ll mail all over the country,
and is happy to share them
of settling for hoop
collages I’ll stick on the refrigerator, notebook covers I’ll desecrate. Most of
with whoever asks! What gets
skirts. The ones who
neer Valley, she says she’s been lucky to explore many passions
Gayle most excited is coming
should turn out something less than museum quality. I’ve decided to stop
it will probably be amateurish and embarrassing, but one thing I know, and ignore over and over again, is that nothing gets made waiting for the muse
came before us made
to show up. All of those colorful supplies sitting on my shelves month after
of challenges—reworking a
it possible for our
month become pretentious unless they’re put to use. Whether your craft is
website, promoting a project,
daughters to dream
poetry, cooking, music, drawing or knitting—you can’t be afraid of making
up with solutions to all types
directing a film or just brainstorming ways to get more
bigger, to have the
business. Her work is used in
chance to grow up to
lots of different ways: market-
be President and turn
ing collateral, editorial, animation, web design and logo and
a mess or a mistake. You have to use your whole self up instead of saving it for a rainy day. Just like a six-year-old.
Nikki
publisher@skirt.com
the Oval Office into
brand development and more.
the Ovary Office. In
FROM THE EDITOR
gkabaker.com
the United Skirts of
In a town buzzing with artists and steeped in Southern charm, we have a history of the hands-on
America, every day is
approach. The question is never whether to make; it’s what to make and how to make it yours. At
Independence Day! VISIT US ON SKIRT.COM
skirt!, creative women work together every day to make something we care about: spreading the good word about outstanding women’s impact on our community. Since I started working at this magazine, I’ve been beyond lucky to work alongside a very inspiring woman: our own graphic designer, Britt Scott. As a lowly intern I never thought the down-to-earth, artsy redhead would become a role model, an avid supporter of my dreams and talents, and a great friend. She knows how to make the best of a bad situation, how to make a song all her own, how to make a night on the town worth it, and how to make a damn good magazine.That’s why The Make Issue is dedicated to Britt and all she’s done for skirt!. Savannah sees her off this month, and it won’t be the same without her!
DIY
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Elena
elena.fodera@skirt.com
skirt! scene Fashion’s Night Out • September 6, 2012 • Broughton Street Photos courtesy of Britt Scott & Adriana Iris Boatwright
Skirt! August Release Party • August 2, 2012 • The Melting Pot Photos courtesy of Stefanie Peal
www.savannah.skirt.com • facebook.com/skirtsavannahHHI
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•
@skirtsavannah
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Meet the Makers
Khiara Washington | Make It All-Natural Khiara “Khi” Washington, is one half of KhiJo, an all-natural skin and hair care company founded with friend and colleague Katy Jo Holton. Made from beeswax, honey, vitamin E and essential oils, KhiJo’s signature cream is multi-functional. “We originally made it for dreadlocks,” says Khi, “but as we began sampling it out, it was useful to everyone in different ways—lips, eyebrows, dry skin.” More than just a versatile product, KhiJo is a company with mission. “As a product, KhiJo crosses racial boundaries,” says Khi. “By creating something that everyone can use in their own, independent way, we inspire them to express themselves.” Their philosophy is to offer chemical-free body care from a conscious company, from reusing their recyclable containers to encouraging community dialogue. “We want people to look at us as an ethical company,” Khi explains. “We strive to conduct business in a way that benefits the earth and helps individuals heal.” Photo by Adriana Iris Boatwright
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Meet the Makers
Jessie Duthu | Make It Yourself! Jessie Duthu is one crafty woman! Independent fashion blogger at Strawberry Moth, crafter, artist and “vintage-aholic,” she packs her blog with amazing do-it-yourself ideas, style inspiration and more. She also owns a wedding supply shop where she offers unique, handmade details for brides and celebrations. You may have seen her work (and her ceremony) featured in the most recent Savannah Weddings. “At first, my blog focused on vintage clothing and how to make it wearable for everyone,” Jessie explains. “Eventually it evolved into a How-To. As you get older, you don’t focus so much on you, rather what you create and what you give to people.” While technology and handmade or vintage creations don’t seem like an obvious match, Jessie says blogs and sites like Etsy enable creativity like never before. “You can create a world of your own, and people connect to that. It’s such a cool creative outlet.” Photo by Terry Duthu
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Meet the Makers
Elizabeth Seeger | Make It Successful “I grew up sewing,” recalls Elizabeth Seeger, owner and designer at Satchel, the Broughton Street shop/studio featuring high-quality, handmade handbags. “My mom made slipcovers for furniture. She worked with really nice fabrics; in college she’d send me boxes of scraps and I’d make bags for my friends.” Elizabeth and her brand have come a long way since those beginnings. A testament to entrepreneurial spirit, Satchel developed from a small shop offering high-end brand names to a full-grown, independent studio where each design is one-ofa-kind. “People are drawn to custom work because they have a hand in the design process,” says Elizabeth. “They can choose their leather; their lining…It makes them feel that it’s theirs.” And Satchel’s popularity continues to grow. This summer, 17 stores—from Nantucket to Memphis to Atlanta—picked up the brand. “It’s a juggling act all the time!” says Elizabeth. “We’re proud of everything we make here.” Photo by Nick Chiappina
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Illustration by Monkey Mind Design, Unique Paper Expressions. monkeymindesign.etsy.com
O C TO B E R
5-7
AL - AN
Ahoy! Join the party for a swashbuckling good time at Tybee Pirate Fest, a rowdy tradition on the island for buccaneers of all ages. tybeepiratefest.com
Get ready for some hollerin’ and foot stompin’ just the way you like it at the 23rd Annual Savannah Folk Music Festival, featuring fine musicians from Savannah and beyond. savannahfolk.org
5-7 BEERS AND BRATS
13 MIDNIGHT IN THE GARDEN
5-6 BEHIND THE CURTAIN
19-20 HALLOWEEN HIKE
11-13 OPA!
19 MASQUERADE
Oktoberfest on the River is a hoppin’ way to enjoy the season with schnitzels, cold beers to go ‘round and the beloved Wiener Dog Races! Don’t miss out! riverstreetsavannah.com Don’t miss the chance to be a special guest at Savannah’s only speakeasy, the House of Mata Hari, for a Vaudevillian show, “Carnival Bar Cabaret.” Call 912.272.8693 for tickets! Visit the Annual Savannah Greek Festival for some big, fat Greek fun, celebrating 61 years of Savannah’s Greek community. savannahgreekfest.com
Bonaventure: After Hours allows you to visit the famed cemetery like never before—after the gates close. Get in the spooky spirit! bonaventurecemetery.com Oatland Island Wildlife Center kicks off the festive season with a Halloween Hike: a magical trick-ortreat with plenty of kid-friendly surprises. oatlandisland.org As if you needed another excuse to party in costume, Monster Mash Bash, benefiting Royce Learning Center, is at the American Legion Post 135. monstermashbash2012.eventbrite.com
BQ Step out and “Step Forward”: SAFE Shelter’s 5K Walk supports women and families suffering from domestic violence. Show them they’re not alone. safeshelter.org
19 OH, MY!
20 TOUR & TEA
19-21 AW, SHUCKS
26 SWEET SOUNDS
20 PRESERVE AND PROTECT
28 MORE THAN MATZO
Rocky Horror Show 2012 Live at the Bay Street Theatre opens today and through November 2. baystreettheatre.org What could be greater then tons of fresh, local seafood? If only the shrimp would peel themselves! The 14th Annual Great Ogeechee Seafood Festival is this weekend. goseafoodfestival.com Historic Savannah Foundation’s Annual Gala is a fabulous time for a legendary cause. Preserve Savannah and be part of history! Get your tickets early. hsf.org
Support Savannah’s oldest academy for girls at St.Vincent’s Annual Tour of Homes & Tea. svatourofhomes.com Enjoy Opera Week through November 4, a weeklong series of classes, lectures and concerts. It’s not over ’til the—er, next month. Don’t miss it! voiceexperiencefoundation.com The Shalom Y’all Jewish Food Festival is a unique Savannah tradition bringing Jewish cuisine, dancing and more to everyone. michveisrael.org
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Illustration by Monkey Mind Design, Unique Paper Expressions. monkeymindesign.etsy.com
Skirt of the Month Royal Blue Silk High Waisted Skirt Green Label Designs greenlabeldesigns.com
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LocalLoves Beyond Hands-On At the newest crafters’ emporium on West State Street, you’ll find two shops in one: Perlina Bead Shop (featured on our “Meet” page!) and The Frayed Knot, a haven for knitting, crochet and more fiber arts. Visit perlinabeadshop.com and thefrayedknotsav.com for a schedule of classes and workshops every week! Looking Sharp
Get high style from below sealevel. Diver and previous skirt! He’s So Original Bill Eberlein’s jewelry features fossilized Megalodon shark teeth, discovered on his dives off the muddy shores of coastal Georgia.
Worth Their Salt
Our friends Carol and Dave at the Salt Table have teamed up with global humanitarian organization Rivers of the World to create two special seasoning blends: Rockin’ River and Raging River. For every bottle you buy, Salt Table donates $2 to ROW to help remote communities in need. Find out more at row.org and salttable.com.
Bee Yourself
In this month’s issue, we introduced you to Khiara Washington, the Khi half of KhiJo.Visit khijo. com to check out the products and learn more about this compassionate company’s motto: “Naturally You, Naturally Unifying.”
Photo by Robbie Mills.
To get a buried treasure of your own, you can browse megateeth. com, Plantation Jewels inside the River Street Market Place and Ella’s Gifts of Richmond Hill, or visit Bill himself at every First Saturday on River Street!
If you’re swooning over the possibilities, let the ladies who know best help you channel your creativity.
Be Still My Heart!
We adore these nautical knots created by jewelry artist Mary Kent Hearon. The Celtic-inspired Mary Time Collection features shining abalone shells, freshwater pearls, vintage pins and more, each piece a truly unique work of art. Check out Mary’s website, theheartbead.com for a look at new items for fall and other soulful and eclectic handcrafted works.
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FEEL GOOD OCTOBER
Rated the top scanning service by CNNMoney!
Feel good about your family photos. Are your family photos stuffed in shoe boxes or stuck in albums helter skelter or simply scattered around the house? Order the Scan Café Value Kit, and you’ll receive a box to fill with up to 600 photos (up to 8 x 10 inches), negatives and slides that you can send via UPS to be scanned (in some cases the quality can even be corrected). Your box of originals will be returned along with a DVD containing the scanned photos. No more worries about losing your photos, getting scratches on them or having them inevitably fade or degrade over time. And in case of emergency (fire or hurricane or other disasters) you can simply grab the disk and go. On DVD, your photos will be safe and ready to access whenever you need them. $129.99, plus $19.99 S&H. scancafe.com
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Grief had turned me into an obsessive-compulsive pie-baking lunatic.
G
Amy Vansant
rief is a master of disguise. Like a vampire, it drains your self-respect until you’re openly sobbing in the grocery store because they’re out of spray butter. It masquerades as a hypnotist, fixing your gaze on one small patch of sofa for days. It is a ninja, ambushing as you walk into a room that used to feel less empty. Sometimes, grief is a pastry chef. Divorce and a string of family deaths had made it a hard year for me. Trying to recreate my Great-Grandmom’s apple pie recipe seemed a proactive way to break my slide into depression. Every birthday and Christmas dinner of my childhood ended with Great-Grandmom’s apple pie, and these were all happy times, unless you were hoping for cake. If you wanted cake, you were out of luck until my brother’s birthday. Grief had planted that seed in my head. I realized that somewhere around pie number thirteen. I had Great-Grandmom’s recipe folded and tucked in my recipe box. After years of cajoling, my Mom-Mom, her daughter-in-law, had finally gotten it out of the old lady. Great-Grandmom got soft and threw up the white flag in the form of an apple pie recipe. Ha. Great-Grandmom’s kitchen was rimmed with an impressive salt and pepper shaker collection, filled with old cloth-calendars-turned-dish-towels, and covered by an asbestos tile floor, but you’d be hard pressed to find a white flag anywhere. When Mom-Mom danced off with the coveted recipe, Great-Grandmom smoothed out her house dress with her impossibly large German hands, sat down at her chrome-legged kitchen table, and laughed herself silly. She might as well as given Mom-Mom directions for Shepherd’s Pie, for all that slip of paper had in common with the real apple pie recipe.
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The Apple Pie Defense
Not long after, Great-Grandmom died, the real recipe locked beneath her steel gray curls. Great-Grandmom: 1, Mom-Mom: 0. Game over. I could taste their disdain for each other as I sampled my first attempt at the faux recipe. The filling had no magic; the crust, leaden. The crust I could cure. My Nanny, my mother’s mother, had a perfect crust. Nanny had no animosity towards her own daughter, so that recipe I could trust. Second attempt: crust, perfect; filling, terrible; no better than cafeteria pie. Over the next week I made 16 pies, each time tweaking the ingredients to no avail. Rome apples, green apples, Gala apples. I had gotten very close with a combination of Gala and green apples, but still, the pie lacked something. Something that made it Great-Grandmom’s apple pie. Grief had turned me into an obsessive-compulsive pie-baking lunatic. I found myself sitting in defeat, flour coating my kitchen like Christmas morning snow, sipping on a Bourbon. I dribbled the last of it into my glass. Not only had I not recreated the pie, but now I was out of Bourbon. I could hear Grief’s buddies Maudlin and Self-Pity knocking on the door. My eyes tilted towards the glass-paneled cupboard, home to my liquor collection. I opened a bottle of gin and sniffed. Nope. I couldn’t move from Bourbon to the bitter juniper berry scent of gin. I opened a bottle of rum. No, no. Too sweet. Wrong, wrong, wrong. My eyes fell on a cheap bottle of Canadian whiskey. It wasn’t something I drank, but I had this romantic idea that someday an elderly neighbor would stop by and tell me stories about the Great War, and I would be the perfect hostess, trotting out the Seagram’s Seven. I opened the whiskey and inhaled. Nope. I started tightening the cap, but...that smell. Somewhere in my sad, foggy brain, a bulb began to glow. The whiskey smelled like Great-Grandmom’s pie. I leapt to my feet and prepared the crust for another pie and added a cup of whiskey to the filling. As it baked I cleaned. I cleaned the flour off the walls and floor. I put the dishes in the dishwasher. I moved into other rooms, picking up weeks of clothes, scattered books and photos. As the pie cooled, I resisted the urge to burn my tongue and pushed myself to clean more. Finally, I took a long hot shower and removed the flour from my face and the pie dough from my fingernails. Towel drying my hair, the smell of warm apple pie led me back into the kitchen, the scent different than the pungent combination of apple and defeat that had hung in the air for the last week. I closed my eyes and pictured the red tablecloth at Christmas, my mother’s good china coffee cups sitting in front of each family member, an apple pie plate placed in front of me. I cut into the dessert and tasted. I had recreated the pie. An intoxicating aroma hugged my kitchen like the embrace of a big German grandmother. The calendar on the wall reminded me that the ladies’ book club that I used to enjoy was scheduled for the next evening. Grief and I had been hiding. It was time to go out. The next morning I stocked up at the grocery store and started baking more pies. I made one for each of the six ladies of book club. Moans of joy filled the air as they took their first forkfuls, and my heart swelled with happiness. Mission accomplished. Driving home after book club, triumphant and lost in my thoughts, I didn’t at first notice the red and blue lights flashing behind me. I’d been speeding. My stomach lurched. I pulled over. As the officer leaned into my window I saw him pause and sniff the air. “Have you been drinking tonight?” he asked. I smiled, knowing I hadn’t had a drop to drink that night. The quest to dull my pain had been accomplished by pie, no alcohol required. “No.” “Your car smells like whiskey,” said the officer, raising an eyebrow. I sniffed. My car did smell like whiskey. “Pies,” I said. “I took everyone in my book club apple pies made with whiskey for Christmas. I’m sure the car smells like a distillery.” The officer nodded and looked away, the corner of his mouth curling to form a barely perceptible grin. “My grandmother had booze in her pies too,” he said. Without further argument, he handed me back my license, and sent me off with a warning. The apple pie defense had set me free. Amy Vansant has been published in Surfer, Chesapeake Bay Magazine, McSweeney’s and other publications/sites. Read more at her humor blog at kidfreeliving.com or on Twitter @kidfreeliving.
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I hope I’m lucky enough to have a hospice volunteer when I am at the end of my own journey...
T
Stacy Appel
he gift she brought was modest in appearance—a faded white wicker basket, whose handle had seen better days, filled with little string-bound packets, sprigs and cuttings. Inside were bay leaves, thyme, some eucalyptus pods which resembled little brown bells. A vanilla bean, dark and stringy, along with a sprig of mint leaves and another from a basil plant. Feathery fronds of tarragon, fennel, dill, a long, spiky strand of rosemary and a cluster of purple lavender stalks tied with a silky ribbon. One fat, bumpy elbow of ginger root, and a tiny linen bag full of rose petals. An array of dried bergamot flowers tucked into a fold of green tissue paper. At the bottom of the basket, thick brown sticks of cinnamon curled next to rough-edged peelings of lemon and orange. By the time she brought the basket to Edward, he could no longer speak or hold anything in his hands, but he could still sit partway up in bed, so she held each fragrance under his nose, watching him breathe as deeply as he could manage. Once or twice his mouth changed, as if trying to form a smile. And when she moved the lavender away to pick up a different scent, Edward clutched her wrist and brought her hand back to his face so he could inhale the fragrance again. He had already said goodbye, more or less, to driving, his health, his daughters and nephews, full meals. Now she could help him say farewell to nature, one smell at a time. Over the years I’ve met artists, musicians, people who write poetry or books for a living, teach ballet, or sew costumes. But the most unselfconsciously creative people I’ve encountered are those who decide to volunteer for hospice. They don’t realize they’re artists. They think of themselves as normal folks wanting to lend a hand to someone in need, or give back in kind to an organization which once helped a friend or family member. Some volunteers hope to find out more about what dying is like, or have a medical background and want to use it without the confines of a paid job. No one seems to think he or she is extraordinary. But if you could listen in on a hospice team meeting, or attend a volunteer gathering, you’d be struck by all the imaginative and resourceful ways a human being can think up to help another at the end. One terminally ill patient, fixated on seeing the film Dancing With Wolves before he died, wasn’t able to leave the house except for his sporadic trips to the doctor. Grant, his volunteer, understood that time was running out and found a van to get Sam to the local theater, a complicated, medically unadvised feat involving the help of several people. Then Grant took Sam to lunch and afterward surprised his patient with a visit to the zoo, so he could see a real wolf and listen to it howl. Sam talked about this special day right up until his death, as if the two had made a long pilgrimage to Lourdes.
Sometimes the artistry sounds ordinary, but it only seems that way. A bedbound mother of three with myeloma was anguished about her messy house, the chores she could no longer do for her husband and children. Her emotional torment wasn’t simply about the housework, of course, but her hospice volunteer, Cherie, listened carefully to every word of distress. The volunteer training program had never once mentioned cleaning, but Cherie made it her business to clean the entire house while her patient was napping. She began by changing all the kids’ beds and putting weeks’ worth of toys away, washing pots and sorting laundry, making soup, cutting flowers from the garden for the kitchen table and living room. She took trash out to the bins in back and swept floors. She finished by vacuuming rugs and straightening the sickroom. The young mother awoke from a deep sleep to a house entirely in order; she cried when Cherie described in detail what each room looked like now. “I can feel it,” the mother said. “It feels like my home again.” They both sat and listened to the house for a while. The originality of these parting gifts, and the intelligent creativity involved— all the myriad colors and textures of thoughtfulness—outshine any museum installation or Tony Award-winning play. Volunteers help to fashion farewells in ways which are deeply personal, whether they’re arranging an outing to a shellcovered beach remembered from childhood, or engineering a phone call to an estranged son so he can say goodbye to his father. Sometimes the art is concrete: a collage of silly honeymoon photos or a recording of the grandkids giggling. Sometimes the tableau is a lavish bedside birthday party planned at the last minute, complete with friends, cards and an ice cream cake. A writer pal with breast cancer had her fond dream made real, thanks to those who found the time to make it happen: a call from musician Judy Collins, who sang “Amazing Grace” to her over the phone on the day my friend died. Rules are bent or broken, airlines are lied to, favorite poems unearthed and videos made. Sometimes the art of goodbye requires just sitting quietly together, doing nothing at all. I hope I’m lucky enough to have a hospice volunteer when I am at the end of my own journey, which will of course be hundreds of years from now. Who else will know to find the Johnny Clegg CD with the song “Dela”and play it for me, or read a chapter out loud from C.S. Lewis’ The Horse and His Boy? Only a volunteer will have the inside knowledge needed to recite a Rumi poem to me as I drift in and out of sleep, or make sure I taste a last piece of chocolatecovered taffy from Rehoboth Beach, Delaware, before I expire. My volunteer will return the huge stack of library books piled up in my living room and will have the foresight to absolutely forbid the neighbors down the street from using an electric leaf-blower until I take my very last breath. Who else will be thoughtful enough to write a note on my behalf to Julia Cameron, bless her heart, and tell her I really hated doing “morning pages,” though everyone else loved them? And who will know to find a freshly cut gardenia to float in a bowl of water on my bedside table? Note to self: Do not wait for the volunteer.
Stacy Appel is alive and well in California, where she is an award-winning writer. Her work has been featured in the Chicago Tribune and elsewhere. She has also written for National Public Radio. She is a contributor to the book You Know You’re a Writer When… by Adair Lara. Contact Stacy at WordWork101@aol.com.
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Sandfly Isle of Hope
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He’s So Original
Jose Ray makes it colorful. For local artist Jose Ray, creating is about keeping things moving. Whether he’s painting a mural, driving the bus on the Unchained Tour or spinning records at Vinyl Appreciation Night, Jose says “I love being on the spot.” “It’s why I enjoy live painting, or filling up a sketchbook at a bar or in the park. Movement is more exciting than a subject sitting in front of you.” Jose’s work is welcoming, featuring colors and characters from the friendly to the surreal, but always accessible. “I’ve always had a do-it-yourself mentality. I don’t want my art to be above anyone,” says Jose. “It’s good to understand the philosophy, the history, but at the end of the day, can’t we just have fun and paint?” What do you like about wearing a skirt? “A man in a skirt is not something you see every day.” What do you like about reading skirt!? “I like the cover art—it always catches my eye!” Photo by Nick Chiappina
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Heights Plaza There’s a new light shining in the long-forgotten area of Crescent Heights! A group of enthusiastic business owners have renovated and revamped a once desolate 1960s strip mall, transforming it into a new destination for beauty, tantalizing taste and stylish home accessories for the upwardly-mobile trendsetting crowd in Ardsley Park and beyond. Visit Femme Fatale Salon, Blue Turtle Bistro and Sentimental Wendell to see for your self! Heights Plaza is proud to be a part of National Breast Cancer Awareness Month. For the entire month of October, Heights Plaza will be offering fabulous pink-inspired specials and donating proceeds to Young Survival Coalition of Savannah, offering breast cancer resource kits to the newly diagnosed. 66th St. & Paulsen St.
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Wheely Bug wheelybug.com
Kid-Tastic
Trumpette Cow
Felt Stuffed Sushi Set
Sara Jane Children’s Boutique 202 East 37th St. 912.234.5266
Savannah Baby Co. 5301 Paulsen St. 912.480.0212
Monkey Backpack
Four Kids 8511 Ferguson Ave. Ste. C 912.238.1919
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SKIRT! STYLE OCTOBER
Skirt! Savannah supports National Breast Cancer Awareness Month! Show your support and “Paint the Town Pink” this October.
Pretty in Pink Clockwise from top left: Pink silk scarf from Gaucho, Pink Ribbon designer t-shirt from Katydid Collection at katydidcollection.com, hot pink bubble necklace from Copper Penny, pink jeweled brooch from Sentimental Wendell, AVEDA Pink Ribbon Hand Relief benefiting the Breast Cancer Research Foundation available at Brian Salon in Savannah, jeweled stretch ring from Villa Savannah, Zoya nail lacquer in Lola from Savannah Day Spa, Vera Bradley hipster bag in Ribbons™, the 2012 pattern for the Vera Bradley Foundation for Breast Cancer available at Polka Dots, OKA b. eco-friendly ballet flats in Orchid from oka-b.com, Henry & Belle jeans from Terra Cotta Boutique. www.skirt.com octoberw2012savannah 35
S K I R T ! S AY S : When nothing’s coming up roses, grow your own glad.
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Meet Favorite Shoes: Black low-top Converse All Stars.
Jami Stone, artist and co-owner (along with skirt! photographer Marianne Brown) of the new Perlina Bead Shop, offering handmade beads, fun findings and supplies for your creative cravings.
My Pet: The pup Grover P. Bowden.
My Gadget: My iPhone.
Right Now I’m Reading: Grow Your Handmade Business by Kari Chapin.
My Workspace: Has a little of everything.
Where I Get My Coffee: “Witches Brew” from Brighter Day. Dream Date: Harry Potter World. My Workout: Biking to work. Where I Shop Locally: Goodwill and The Frayed Knot. Where You’ll Find Me Friday Nights: Date with my husband. My Role Model: Punky Brewster. I Can’t Live Without: Art. I’d Like To
Photo by Marianne Brown
Learn To: Play the mandolin. Signature Scent: Clinique Happy. Favorite TV Show Ever: X-Files. Right now: The Walking Dead. Favorite Feminist: Ani DiFranco.
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planetnikki [ a visual journal ]
As I write this, it’s getting dark earlier, but we’re still in some
It’s too hot for sweaters and
kind of unsettled season.
boots, but shorts and cotton skirts seem all wrong.
This not-summer/not-winter confuses me and makes me irritable.
It’s too much like the pause between endings and beginnings when
every day you wake up in some state of in-between.
Where you have to let go of one
thing in order to hop on another, like that stutter when you get to the end of a walking sidewalk and you’re not quite airborne and not quite earthbound.
Those times of
change
when you know forward is the right direction, but the
past won’t quite let you go.
I’ve been looking forward to the movie adaptation of Kerouac’s On the Road for so long that I’m bound to be disappointed, but I’ll still see it. It’s one of my favorite books because it speaks directly to some unrealized wild child in me.
When I feel overwhelmed by life or work or Mondays, I wish I had a pair of Doc Martens to give me some outward kickassery confidence.
This Martha Stewart sticker is one of the crafty, kitschy items from my Michaels binge. Like a magpie, I can’t resist bright shiny things even when they are totally useless.
Can’t stop playing “Somewhere” from Magic Hour, Scissor Sisters’ most recent album. The rest of the CD doesn’t grab me as much, but “Somewhere” will be on my walkingaround-NYC playlist.
Nikki Hardin is the founder and publisher of skirt! magazine. She blogs at fridaville.com.
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