Sasee June 2013

Pull Out Fashion Guide

The most important thing to wear is a

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– Ann Taylor

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Kohl’s Car Seat Safety June 25 from 3 - 6 pm at the Myrtle Beach Kohl’s

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• Participants must have their child safety seat, car and child present, and will be served on a first come, first serve basis.

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4/12/13 11:49 AM www.sasee.com 3

featured articles

8 12 22 24 28 30 38 40 42 44

June 2013 Volume 12, Issue 6

who’s who

I’m Baby Evan

by Melissa Face

Just for Fun

by Maura Troy

Does Size Really Matter?

by Sonya Lee

Southern Snaps

by Leslie Moore

Publisher Delores Blount Sales & Marketing Director Susan Bryant Editor Leslie Moore Account Executives Amanda Kennedy-Colie Donna Roy Erica Schneider Celia Wester Art Director Taylor Nelson Photography Director Patrick Sullivan Graphic Artist Scott Konradt Accounting Ronald Pacetti Administrative Assistant Barbara J. Leonard Executive Publishers Jim Creel Bill Hennecy Tom Rogers

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Pull Out Fashion Guide

Stylin’

Colors of My Dreams

by Kim Seeley

A Uniform of a Different Kind

by Rose Ann Sinay

My Photo Shoot

by Ferida Wolff

A Miracle Mile Miracle

by Diane Stark

Not Just Another Meal

by Susan DeBow

Oh, Wilderness!

by Jeffery Cohen

PO Box 1389 Murrells Inlet, SC 29576 fax 843-626-6452 • phone 843-626-8911 www.sasee.com • info@sasee.com

I n T h is I ssue Read It! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sasee Gets Candid . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Women & Men Who Mean Business . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Scoop on the Strand . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Sasee is published monthly and distributed free along the Grand Strand. For subscription info, see page 10. Letters to the editor are welcome, but could be edited for length.

Submissions of articles and art are welcome. Visit our website for details on submission. Sasee is a Strand Media Group, Inc. publication.

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Copyright © 2013. All rights reserved. Reproduction of any material, in part or in whole, prepared by Strand Media Group, Inc. and appearing within this publication is strictly prohibited. Title “Sasee” is registered with the U.S. Patent & Trademark Office.

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contributing writers letter from the editor I read a blog post recently by a woman who, like most of us, has always hated to be photographed. After years of being absent from almost every family snapshot, she finally decided not to deprive her family of precious memories and just get in the picture – alone and with her family and friends. I think many women can relate to her story. We never feel really good about the way we look – those few extra pounds or the latest laugh line (wrinkle) sends us running from the camera. I have resolved to just smile and let the camera click away from now on, regardless of how I think I look. And no more sneaking the camera or phone away to delete my image permanently. (Yes, I have done that on more than one occasion.) One day my children will get the same satisfaction from those imperfect images as I do from pictures of my loved ones who have passed on – and, like me, they won’t see anything but love.

Enjoy this month’s “Stylin’” issue. And, to all of our male readers, Happy Father’s Day!

Jeffery Cohen, a freelance writer, painter, and sculptor, wrote a weekly newspaper humor column for six years. His work has appeared in Sasee Magazine. He was a finalist in the 2011 Women-On-Writing Flash Fiction Contest, he won second place in Vocabula’s 2011 Well Written Writing Contest and placed second in the National League of American Pen Womens’ 2011 Soul Making Literary Competition for short stories.

Susan DeBow is a writer/artist/motivational speaker. She now writes a blog at susandebow.wordpress.com and her art can be seen and purchased at www.susandebow.com. She looks forward to hearing from you.

Melissa Face lives in Virginia with her husband, son and dog.

Her stories and essays have appeared in Chicken Soup for the Soul and Cup of Comfort. E-mail Melissa at writermsface@yahoo.com.

Sonya Lee lives in Chesterfield, Virginia, with her husband and two children. She teaches high school English and enjoys writing candidly about her life experiences.

Kim Seeley, a former librarian and English teacher, lives with her husband, Wayne, in Wakefield, Virginia. Her most recent story, “Amanda’s Jonquils,” can be found in Chicken Soup: Messages from Heaven. She loves to read, play the piano, travel and spend time with her grandson, Evan.

Rose Ann Sinay lives in North Carolina with her husband and dog where she spends her time writing. Her children graciously continue to provide her with moments worth preserving.

cover artist Yellow and Black, by Gerry Davis Native North Carolinian Gerry Davis studied fashion design at Richmond Professional Institute, now Virginia Commonwealth University (VCU) and after graduation lived in Paris studying fashion illustration at Cours Bercot, Dessin De Mode. He became an apprentice with a modeliste of Christian Dior in order to learn more about draping and design.

Returning to New York City, he met Brook Volland, who would become his partner in business and in life. Together they designed hats under the label Gerald-Brook. In 1964, an editor from Harper’s Bazaar came in to see the hats. Suddenly, the duo had their work on the cover, and by the fall of 1965 had their first millinery shop in New York.

A few years later the pair relocated to Wilson, North Carolina, near Gerry’s home of Farmville, and opened Gerald-Brook Boutique, which they ran for the next 28 years. A few years ago, the artist began creating whimsical, embellished shoe sculptures with names like, Cupid Did It, Rosie the Riveter, and Neptune’s WC. For more information about Gerry’s work, contact Sunset River Marketplace at 910-575-5999 or visit www.sunsetrivermarketplace.com.

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Diane Stark is a former teacher turned stay-at-home mom and freelance writer. Her work has been published in 16 Chicken Soup for the Soul anthologies, A Cup of Comfort for Christian Women and dozens of magazines. She loves to write about the important things in life: her family and her faith. She can be reached at DianeStark19@yahoo.com.

Maura Troy lives in Connecticut. She is President of her local chapter of Romance Writers of America and enjoys writing, knitting and hiking. She is currently working on a novel of romantic suspense.

Visit her website at mauratroy.com.

Ferida Wolff is author of 17 books for children and three essay books for adults; the latest is Missed Perceptions: Challenge Your Thoughts Change Your Thinking from Pranava Books. Wolff is a frequent contributor to the Chicken Soup for the Soul series. Her website is www. feridawolff.com, and she can be reached at feridawolff@msn.com.

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www.sasee.com 7

I’m Baby Evan

I

by Melissa Face

n my effort to hang on to each moment of his childhood for as long as possible, I have continued to call my son Baby Evan, even though he is no longer a baby. So naturally, now that he is a walking, talking twoyear-old, he refers to himself by the same name.

“Well, hi there young man,” says a kind lady in the grocery store.

“What is your name?”

“I’m Baby Evan,” he proudly responds.

The lady laughs, pats him on the head and continues down the aisle.

“Aren’t you just the cutest!” remarks the cashier at Target. “What is your name?”

“I’m Baby Evan,” he says, without hesitation.

And so it goes. Each time he is asked, his response is the same. It has been very cute for quite some time. But my husband and I are beginning to worry. We discuss ways of getting him to drop the “baby” and we talk about the possible results of him not giving it up.

He might scoot through elementary and middle school with minimal teasing, but problems could arise in high school, especially if he plays sports.

“And playing middle linebacker,” shouts the announcer, “is Baby Evan!”

It will definitely be more difficult to intimidate his opponents if his “baby” name continues into his teenage years. But that’s not all. My husband and I are concerned about his future career prospects as well. How will his name impact his professional goals if Evan decides to be a doctor, a judge, a policeman or a NASCAR driver? Oh, I can imagine all the potential hazards.

“Paging Dr. Baby Evan to the ER. Dr. Baby Evan, you are needed in the ER.” “All rise for the Honorable Judge Baby Evan.”

“Officer Baby Evan to dispatch. I’m on the scene of a 10-30.

Requesting back-up.”

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“And here they come ‘round turn three. Who is that driving the Fisher-Price car? Oh, yes. I believe that’s Baby Evan.”

Okay, so maybe we’re getting a bit ahead of ourselves. But it is time to start working with him on saying his real name. The other night we sat down and practiced.

“Your name is Evan Face,” my husband said. “Can you say Evan Face?”

“Evan Face,” our child repeated.

“Very good!”

Evan went back to pushing his tractors and shooting basketball. Then we called him back over to see how our little lesson had gone.

“What is your name?” my husband asked.

Our child paused thoughtfully for a minute.

“I’m Baby Face. I mean, I’m just Baby Evan.”

“Evan Face,” Craig reminded him.

“Yeah,” Evan said. And he returned to his toys.

I talked to my mom about the situation, and she reminded me that almost everyone in our small town is known by a nickname. “Imagine moving here, writing out Christmas cards and trying to find names like Chicken Brown and Son Bailey in the phone book. Nobody is called by a given name in this town!”

I hadn’t thought about that. Our town has a “Blinkee” and a “Slic.”

Heck, even my dad has been known as “Moose” for the majority of his life. So I guess Baby Evan will fit right in as long as he lives in Wakefield. But just in case he decides to move away from home, we will continue to practice and hopefully he will learn to say, “My name is Evan Face.”

And when he does, I will be so proud of my baby. No matter how old he is.

june

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Name Address City State Zip

Read It! Send check or money order to Sasee Distribution PO Box 1389, Murrells Inlet, SC 29576

Leslie Says…

Read Flight Behavior,

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by Leslie Moore 10 www.sasee.com

Located on Highway 17 between Murrells Inlet and Pawleys Island.

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that is set to be used for logging by her father-in-law. The appearance of Ovid, a scientist come to study the butterflies, at first awes the sheltered Dellarobia, and his teams’ findings that the butterflies’ presence is not a miracle, but a sign of systematic decay, causes a deep questioning of all she has ever held dear.

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www.sasee.com 11

Just for Fun

by Maura Troy

very year my mother always made sure my brothers and sisters and I had a terrific Christmas. As we got older, in addition to the lovely sweaters she would hand knit for us, and the other items she would buy, Mom started adding gifts that were, in her words, “just for fun:” A ridiculous looking pair of pajamas here, a Chia Pet there. One year, she brought back a brick of turf from Ireland and presented it to one of my sisters. “There’s nothing like a turf fire,” she declared, ever proud of her bucolic upbringing in the Irish countryside. Be it turf or a Chia Pet, these gifts were always received with giggles or eye-rolls or good natured groans of “Oh, Mom.” A few years ago, I opened one of my presents and discovered a pair of bedroom slippers. “Those are just for fun, Maura,” my mother called across the crowded living room when she saw what I held.

“Thanks, Mom. They are fun.”

“You don’t really have to wear them,” she laughed.

But I knew I would. They were simple black slippers with an open toe. The “fun” part was the blood red artificial rose and boa feathers attached to the band across the toes. Even thought the slippers were flat, they were totally reminiscent of those fancy high heeled slippers worn by those glamorous movie starlets of the 1920s and 30s. You know the ones I mean, those wonderfully elegant creatures with perfectly coiffed hair and totally un-smudged lipstick, ensconced in lavish art deco bedrooms and bedecked in sumptuous, alluring nightwear that would rival anything worn on today’s red carpets.

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Even though I’ve always enjoyed outdoor activities, I’ve always been a bit of a girly-girl – interested in make-up and fashion. But it was still somewhat of a surprise to me how much I fell in love with these slippers. At the earliest opportunity I went and got a pedicure, choosing a deep red nail polish to match the rose. I sashayed around the house on Sunday mornings, lifting my foot and proclaiming to my husband he was married to a movie star. Silly, I know, but it made us both laugh.

Silly or not, those slippers made me feel beautiful. There was just something about starting and ending each day by slipping my feet into such a playfully exotic pair of footwear. In the hustle and bustle of everyday life, it’s all too easy to overlook doing something to make yourself feel special. So why not give one’s self a small daily dose of whimsy and glamour?

About a year ago my mother came to stay with us for a weekend.

When she spotted me wearing the slippers, she exclaimed in disbelief,” You still have those? They were just for fun.”

“They are fun, Mom. And that’s exactly why I still have them.”

The slippers were beginning to look a little worse for wear at that point, so Mom made it her mission to find me another pair. Any time we spoke on the phone she would inform me she hadn’t forgotten about them and was still searching. Unfortunately, she’d ordered them from a now defunct catalogue so she was unsuccessful in her quest before she fell ill and passed away last fall.

When the heel of one of the slippers broke off last week, I reluctantly had to admit the slippers were no longer usable. This made me very sad as it was another reminder of how much I will miss my mother. But then I thought about it and realized that Mom would never let something like that get her down – especially since there was a solution. The slippers themselves may have deteriorated, but the rose and boa feathers are still as vivid and perky as the day I got them.

Off I went to the mall and picked up a pair of plain black open toed slippers. Back home, a half an hour spent with a scissors, some thread and a hot glue gun yielded me a nice new pair of glamour girl slippers. The “just for fun” part of Mom’s original gift lives on.

And that makes me smile every day.

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www.sasee.com 15

Stylin’

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Stylin’

gets candid

Meet Gerry Davis

Artist and fashion illustrator, Gerry Davis lives in the small town of Wilson, North Carolina, and recently his work caught the eye of Ginny Lassiter, owner of Sunset River Marketplace, while she was in Wilson visiting her parents, close friends of Gerry’s. She loved Gerry’s work and soon had arranged an exhibit. Through June 15th, 30 of Gerry’s fashion illustrations will be featured in the gallery, plus his whimsical shoe sculptures.

Now in his 70s, Gerry’s life has taken him from Christian Dior’s Paris to New York’s 7th Avenue, where his work graced the cover of Harper’s Bazaar, but his heart led him back home to North Carolina to live and work. This is Gerry’s first major exhibit, and he is thrilled to share his creative vision.

Have you always been interested in art and fashion?

I grew up in the little town of Farmville, North Carolina, the only one in a class of 57 interested in the arts. I took piano, voice and studied portrait painting in Greenville with Georgia Pearsall Hearne. I was very lucky to have parents who encouraged and supported me in everything and anything I wanted to do. I wanted to be a fashion designer, but also wanted a college degree. I attended Richmond Professional Institute (now VCU) and majored in Fashion Illustration because at that time they were not allowing males in the design course. After graduation my mom asked what I wanted to do next. (My dad died my sophomore year.) I told her I wanted to study in Paris, and her reply was, “I’m sure if your father was here he would make it possible.” So she did!

Tell us a little about your time in Paris.

I lived in Paris from the fall of 1958 to the fall of 1959. I did not work, rather I went to school. First I was enrolled at Cours Bercot, Dessin De Mode. After I realized I was doing the same thing I did in college, fashion illustration, I interviewed and became an apprentice with a modeliste of Christian Dior’s in order to study draping and design. It was a fantastic

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year as I learned so much and made many wonderful friends that I’ve stayed in touch with through the years.

What type of fashion design most interested you?

My partner Brook Volland and I first began designing hats together in New York, under the label Gerald-Brook. We worked on each other’s designs, offered suggestions, and since Brook did not use a sewing machine I did all the machine work. It was truly a collaborative effort – we were business partners as well as life partners for 49 years until Brook’s death last July.

In 1964 Brook went to Grand Bahama Island to manage the Battaglia Shop in the Lucayan Beach Hotel, and I joined him there. We painted driftwood in our spare time, sold it from the boutique and saved enough money to open our first millinery shop in New York in the fall of 1965. In 1969 we moved to Wilson, North Carolina, opened Gerald-Brook Boutique and ran the shop for 28 years.

Why did you decide to come back to North Carolina?

I wanted to be a designer, but while in New York I soon realized I was not cut out to be on 7th Avenue. I didn’t have the stamina for all the intrigue

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nor was I willing to take part in some of the things that used to take place in that business. Perhaps I didn’t want it badly enough.

Farmville is only 22 miles from Wilson, and I knew there was opportunity here. The lease on our New York store was up and the rent soared. We decided it was time to go where the living was a bit easier, so we chose Wilson. When we first opened, we began as a custom millinery shop, but after a couple of years ladies started back-combing their hair (teasing) and that was the end of millinery. Consequently, we went into ready-to-wear to stay in the fashion game. At the beginning I had a couple of customers that I custom made clothing for, but as we grew I had no time to do the custom work.

thing new, and I took two pairs of shoes and decorated them with beads, sprays, bangles, anything sparkly and shiny. They were a big hit, and that was the beginning of my shoe sculptures.

I’m very excited…almost 78 and having a gallery show…wow! I guess creating is just in my genes – I love beauty, I love fashion, I love portrait painting, I love using all media when creating. I also play classical piano (for my own enjoyment), and I loved acting when I was a participant in the local theater group. Creating is simply my life.

Many thanks to Sunset River Marketplace for their contribution to this interview.

Can you tell me about your 1964 Harpers Bazaar cover?

The 1964 cover came about prior to Brook going to the Bahamas. He was managing the Battaglia shop on Park Avenue, and Mr. Battaglia allowed us to have a showing of hats on the second floor. An editor from Harper’s came and asked to photograph some of the styles. And the next thing we knew we were on the cover. The odd thing is Battaglia Shop got the credit rather than the designers, Gerald-Brook!

How did you evolve to creating these wonderful high heel shoe sculptures?

The shoes! Ha! I’ve always come up with crazy things to do with my talent. I have dear friends who have a shop here in Wilson called JoLiAn. Several years ago I asked if I could create something for their Christmas window and I did. After a couple of years, I told Peggy we needed some-

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Does Size Really Matter?

by Sonya Lee

Every six months, I faithfully head to a local jewelry store to get my diamond solitaire engagement ring inspected and cleaned; and for what seems like the last eight years, the dialogue is always the same.

“Hi, I’d like to get my ring inspected.”

“Sure,” the sales associate replies as she inspects my stone and examines my paperwork. “Isn’t it about time for an upgrade?”

A pause while I ponder – Do people really do that? “Wouldn’t that mean I have to give you my ring?”

“Well, yes, but look what you would be getting,” she entices. As always, I play the part of an interested customer and gaze at the over-sized diamonds.

Sure, my ring is small by most jewelry standards, but it is symbolic of what my husband had to give at the time. Eight hundred dollars was a great deal of money to a struggling college student who was working at Office Max making copies to pay his rent, gas and utilities. Eight hundred dollars was more than he could afford at that time, but he spent it because he thought I was worth the investment.

While I gaze into the jewelry case, I rub my fingers over my ring and imagine the events leading up to my husband’s proposal. I see him anxiously heading to the jewelry store on that day during his lunch break and picking out my ring. He undoubtedly scratches his head and smoothes over his hair as he listens to the saleswoman drone on about cut and clarity. Cautiously, he makes what he believes to be an informed decision. He pays extra for the lifetime warranty as he expects the ring and the marriage to last just that – a lifetime. He nervously shoves the ring into his khaki colored pants and heads back to work – where he continues to make copies for the rest of the afternoon – the

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extra weight in his pocket a constant reminder of how his life will forever change in a few short hours. I smile at the thought of how he must have rehearsed what he was going to say on his thirty minute drive home – hands gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were white and clammy.

Then, I remember how he entered the apartment that late August afternoon – a rush of summer heat counteracted by his naturally cool, laidback personality. I remember being in the kitchen and hearing him groan in pain and lean down to grasp his knee – something he did often due to a childhood injury resulting in a broken patella. I rushed over to help him up – only to see him reach into his pocket and pull out my simple, yet elegant ring in a cream-colored box with a plush, burgundy, velvet lining. “Sonya, will you marry me?” I was speechless. I shook my head and hugged him. I thought I was getting a scanner for my birthday.

I proudly showed off my ring in the weeks to come. One of my students even commented, “He must love you a lot. That ring is huge!” I thought so too. I was twenty-two and in love. It wasn’t the size of the physical diamond that I saw, but the size of the heart that had given me the ring. For after all, the ring was just a symbol – a reminder of the love we shared and the life commitment we were about to make.

So, every year as the enthusiastic associate makes her sales pitch in the hopes of a big commission, my answer is always the same. “No, I’m attached to this one.” Yes, the other rings are superior in size and more refulgent than my ring, but, they lack the one characteristic that makes my half carat solitaire priceless – the memory of the love that first budded as a teenage crush and over the years bloomed into a promise of love everlasting.

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Southern Snaps Lida Fox: High Fashion En Pointe

by Leslie Moore

Eighteen year old Lida Fox is a high fashion model, a ballerina and solo world traveler. She has modeled for some of the world’s most celebrated designers and fashion photographers, and her striking, exotic image has graced the pages of many well known fashion magazines. Her life is a whirlwind of activity, especially during fashion week, which is actually a month of glittering high fashion shows in New York, London, Paris and Milan. But, this Pawleys Island native is also a normal, down to earth and very nice high school senior preparing for her final exams. Like most young people pondering life after high school, Lida has plans for college and dreams of future careers that include working in broadcast journalism or maybe even archeology.

I met Lida at her mother’s dance studio, Litchfield Dance Arts Academy. A rising star in the modeling world, Lida’s success is not surprising – her parents are both stars in their own right. It’s obvious that Lida inherited her beauty from her mother. Tall and lovely, Ilka Doubek has danced professionally since 1973 and was a member of the Omaha Ballet, the San Diego Ballet, Frankfurt Ballet (Germany), and the Hamburg Ballet (Germany). She has also been a guest solo dancer and choreogra-

24 www.sasee.com

pher in many of Europe’s performing arts festivals and major opera houses.

Ilka founded Litchfield Dance Arts Academy 18 years ago, a world class dance studio in Pawleys Island. Lida’s father, Tom Fox, is a successful international opera singer (Baritone), who has performed in every major opera house in the world.

Raised in her mother’s studio, Lida has studied ballet since she was barely walking, and I was curious why she chose modeling rather than a career in dance. “At five feet ten and a half, I’m very tall for a dancer. It’s difficult when you’re taller than your male partners, especially when I’m en pointe. People had suggested that I try modeling because of my height, so I had a portfolio done locally by Wayne’s View Photography. Several years ago, my parents and I traveled to New York City for a ballet competition – my dad was performing there as well. Mom and I took my portfolio to several modeling agencies, and Ford signed me right then, but wanted me to wait to start until I looked a little older. (I was 15 at the time.)”

After that initial trip, things moved quickly for Lida, and she eventually signed a contract with Next Agency in New York. While most girls have a “home” agency that sends them on test shoots, teaches them the ropes, etc., there is nothing like that in the little community of Pawleys Island. Lida jumped right into the New York modeling world and by age 17 was walking the runways of fashion week. Looking at the dozens of magazines in which Lida has appeared, I had a hard time recognizing the fresh-faced girl in front of me in these sophisticated, high fashion images.

“I love modeling,” began Lida. “Of course, sometimes it can be a little uncomfortable. Recently, I spent a week modeling summer clothes outside in 40 degree weather! I also have large, size 10 feet, which don’t always fit into the sample shoes we are given to wear on the runway. I get to see beautiful places, though.

Recently I did a shoot in Versailles, outside of Paris – that was amazing.”

Lida’s busiest time is fashion week, a hectic, busy time for everyone in the fashion world. “Week” is a little misleading as it actually lasts more than a month, with a week in New York, London, Paris and Milan. Models work long hours, starting before dawn and finishing in the wee hours of the morning. “We usually start by 6 am and are not done until well after midnight,” laughed Lida. “It’s exciting, actually.”

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Backstage, before the show, the girls are constantly being photographed in various stages of preparation, as everyone readies themselves to deliver the designer’s vision for this season, with just the right music, settings and, of course, the clothes themselves.

I was a little surprised to learn that there is great camaraderie among the models. “I have met girls from all over the world and made some really good friends,” Lida told me, and related some of the fun the girls have together in their free time. “We go to the opera, visit museums and walk through the cities sightseeing. I was able to see the Royal Ballet in London!” Modeling agencies house their models in apartments or hotels together as well, so Lida is not completely alone.

Staying thin and healthy is of the utmost importance to fashion models who spend every day in front of a camera or on the runway.

Today’s young models are encouraged by their agencies to develop a healthy lifestyle, and Lida is no exception. “I exercise a lot,” she told me when I asked her routine. “Wherever I am, I find ballet classes and attend three or four times a week. And, I’m always walking.” Always a hearty eater, Lida confessed a particular love for sweets, especially those from the wonderful bakeries in Paris. When not working, Lida wears little or no makeup and dresses very casually. “It’s nice to give my skin a break. Some days, especially during fashion week, my makeup is changed several times a day.”

“I’ve had so many amazing experiences, it’s hard to pick the best one,” Lida told me when I asked about her favorite modeling job. She described a rooftop party in Japan with “the best sushi” and a shoot in the famous Moulin Rouge in Paris as two memorable ones. She also shared a story of a rooftop shoot in Paris when the shoots were done in between rain showers. “Modeling is like performing. I portray a particular character or mood.” This rising star has worked with some of the best fashion photographers in the world, but, again, says she has no favorites. “It’s very different today. The photographs pop up almost immediately on a screen, and the more famous photographers never push a button on a camera, they spend their time directing the shoot. Each one is so different.”

Home with her parents in Pawleys Island for a few weeks, Lida is spending her time studying for final exams and will graduate from high

school this year. Because of her career, Lida has attended school online for several years, and is excited about the future. “I will eventually go to college, but right now I want to focus on modeling.” Lida is becoming more and more successful, not only for her beauty, but for her ballet training. “I recently did a Christian Dior show and was the only model that could walk in the shoes! We had to use double-sided tape to get them to stay on my feet.” She is also extremely flexible and was selected for the Japanese based company Uniglo Jeans’ shoot and video because of her unique abilities.

“I hope one day to live full time in New York, but I do love London and Paris. I’ve seen so many gorgeous places, but these three cities are my favorites.” Lida’s look has become very popular in Paris, so she’ll most likely spend a lot of time there over the next few years.

After finishing her exams and spending some much needed down time with her parents, Lida will return to Paris.

She hopes to eventually get bigger, more lucrative contracts that will give her the financial freedom to pursue her dreams. “I’m going to take the future as it comes; I have a lot of options.”

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o f

Colors My Dr

e a m s

by Kim Seeley

I do not live in a fancy house; in fact, the original half of my house is as modest as they come. The front half of my house is nothing more than a factory-made, three bedroom, two-bath modular home. It was in this house that we raised our girls until the youngest one was twelve years old.

For twenty years, we lived in this original house, with brown paneled walls in every single room, varying only in the intensity of the hues of brown. The kitchens, the bedrooms, the living room, even the bathrooms, were brown. We were not poverty-stricken, but my husband is a simple man with simple needs, and he had no problem with brown. The girls and I were the ones who longed for change; possibly I more than they, longed for color. They simply asked for more space. They wanted a den to entertain their friends; I wanted a bathroom of my own.

After years of begging my husband to move to a larger house, miracle of miracles, he finally agreed to compromise by building an addition to our home. The plans for our new addition were drawn up, and the addition would double the size of our home. We would have a large den, a larger master bedroom, a new laundry room, and yes, I would have my own private bath. We would even have an attic to help with storage space. I was thrilled when the builders began work.

Nothing thrilled me as much; however, as the moment that my husband gave me carte blanche to choose all the colors for each room. “Really?” I asked him. “Are you sure you will be happy with whatever colors I choose?” He assured me that the decisions were all mine. I looked at paint samples with the same delight as a child choosing the flavors of Jelly Bellies. (O.K. I still like doing that, too.) It brought me hours of joy to peruse the various colors in the paint strips.

Some of my final choices surprised my contractor, but he dutifully ordered and applied my selections.

Now instead of waking in a brown bedroom, I wake in a creamy yellow aura which reminds me of the sun. My favorite time of the year is the time when I am able to wake with the sun, streaming through the windows and blending in a golden haze throughout my bedroom.

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My bathroom is a light cream color, which I chose so I could change the accessories as often as I liked. Right now, there is a shower curtain which shows children playing by the seashore, with hints of aqua and beige in the pattern of sea shells scattered about the children on the shore.

My towels are aqua and beige, as are my sink accessories.

My laundry room is an almost indescribable shade of green. It is light, but not mint. It has a bit of zing to it. I chose it because it makes me happy, and doing laundry does not make me happy. My logic was that if I have to be in the laundry room, at least the color will make me smile.

My favorite room in our addition is my den. This is the choice my contractor questioned because this room is pink. It is not a shocking pink, nor is it pale. I chose it because in my mind’s eye, it is the color of the sunset on the beach. This is my beach room. In this room, I have my shell collection, my sea shell rug, shell candles, and various beach scenes on the walls. My lamp shades are a darker mauve, and the carpet is gray. My sofa and loveseat are patterned with grey, pink and cream.

On my entertainment center above the television, I showcase my lighthouse collection. In one corner is a birdbath surrounded by green plants and sea shells. This is the room where my youngest daughter had her first big sleep-over, because we finally had the floor space for several friends to spend the night. This is the room where we place the largest Christmas tree; all decorated with gold, pink and cream ornaments. This is the room where my husband and I spend most of our time, reading, snacking and watching T.V. When I was a librarian, I read my third graders a book called, The Big Orange Splot, by Daniel Pinkwater. In it, the main character paints his house unusual colors and shapes. This had been a very orderly neighborhood, with all the houses looking very much the same. One by one, the neighbors come to complain to him, and one by one, he sends them away by telling them, “My house is me, and it looks like all my dreams.”

Soon, the whole neighborhood changes shape as each neighbor spins his house into his dream house. Houses are transformed into castles and pirate ships. People are transfixed by the changes. While my house remains largely unchanged on the outside, other than the size, the changes that color has brought into my life with simple paint on the walls has transformed my home. When I am sitting in my pink den, I can truly say, “My house is me, and it looks like all my dreams.”

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A Uniform of a

Tired and whiny, my brother and sister begged to go home. Just when I was about to give up, a sky blue, pullover shirt caught my eye. Its Nehru collar branded it in the dreaded hippie category, but it was plain and inexpensive enough to buy a little something extra to go with it. The rebellious teenager in me went straight to the men’s clearance jewelry counter. A thick metal neck chain with an over-sized, red-jeweled key hanging from it seemed just the thing to unlock his inner, free spirit.

None of us spoke on the long walk home. The enormity of what we had just done sinking in.

Mom had planned for us to take Dad out to the NCO Club on the base for breakfast. I decided we should give him our gift before we left.

At least there would be a good meal to defuse our gifting blunder. I dragged my siblings out of their rooms. They stood behind me not wanting to acknowledge any connection to this questionable offering. We each held our breath as he tore through the wrapping.

Our father looked at the shirt with the pendant pinned in place for a long moment. Without saying a word, he rose from his chair, went into his bedroom and closed the door. To our amazement, when it opened again, he was wearing the shirt; its high, Nehru collar chafing his neck and My father was a career serviceman. Of his twenty-three years in his sensibilities. The neck chain with its plastic, ruby jewel sat prominently the Air Force, three of those years were spent away from his family for on his broad chest. months, and even a year at a time. He was the textbook military type: He walked to the door and turned around. “What?” he barked. crew cut hair – sharp as a bed of nails with spit polished shoes – shiny “Isn’t anybody hungry?” I’m sure I saw him smile. enough to see the whites of his eyes when he looked down. He was as We entered the restaurant, passing by other fathers dressed in handsome in his drab khaki uniform as he was in his perfectly pressed boring, button down shirts. We couldn’t help but giggle at our straightdress blues. laced father looking oddly “cool” in his trendy shirt and jewelry. Though Our household was an extension of his service-regimented life. he never wore it again, he had given us a special gift. Our dad had dressed I’m sure if he knew how to play the trumpet, the whole family would have up and let his hair down, making it a Father’s day to remember. been blasted out of bed by the sounds of Reveille each and every morning.

He had to be up, so did we. He was gruff, unyielding and barked his orders like a drill sergeant.

After months of absence, my father’s transition back home was not always easy for him or us kids. We had become lackadaisical without his strict schedule, and he returned expecting business as usual. Watching television, reading books and physical inactivity in general, were not permissible during “work” hours. When our dad was home, our muscles were in a constant state of readiness to jump into action when he walked into the room. If he was busy, we’d best be busier.

Out of uniform, he loosened up a bit. There was actually a silly sense of humor lurking inside him that surfaced when he was in a good mood. We always regarded these moments with suspicion before standing down and joining in with the fun. But, once he was done…well, you know the drill.

When I was thirteen, I had a baby sitting job in the evenings that gave me a little spending money. Being the eldest of three siblings, I took it upon myself to buy the holiday gifts for my parents from all of us. A few days before Father’s Day, I collected a token amount from my brother’s and sister’s allowance, and together, we walked to the strip mall a mile and a half away After an hour of shopping, we found that even with my savings, it wasn’t enough to buy a substantial gift. We would just have to be creative, I thought as we headed toward the sales rack in the only department store in town. We sifted through the shirts that had already been rejected at full price. Bright colors, plaids and hippie clothes (as my father referred to the current trends in fashion), nothing seemed appropriate for him.

Different

Kind

by Rose Ann Sinay

30 www.sasee.com

june

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MARY ALICE

MONROE 32 www.sasee.com

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FIRST BOOK

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843.314.3320

9674 Ocean Highway, Pawleys Island, SC 29585

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FIRST BOOK Introducing . . .

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9674 Ocean Highway, Pawleys Island, SC 29585

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MONA PRUFER 843.349.2087 MPRUFER@COASTAL.EDU

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PROVIDING NEW BOOKS TO CHILDREN IN NEED IN HORRY COUNTY

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www.sasee.com 33

Stylin’

4204 HWY 17S, MURRELLS INLET, SC 29576

TO PURCHASE CALL OR EMAIL

FIRST BOOK

BUSINESS Meri Huggins Meri Huggins just found a great new purse in her favorite color—coral. “I love all shades of coral,” said the owner of Classic Antiques and More. Meri’s love of coral extends to her home as well. “I have lots of vintage and antique pieces mixed in, and I use corals in decorating to match our family area that is painted an apricot color. I change things around when I find another antique piece I just have to have!”

“My Shag shoes would qualify as my favorite article of clothing because I know when I wear them I’ll be meeting friends for an evening of Shag dancing!” Other than her wedding rings, Meri’s favorite piece of jewelry is an heirloom marcasite watch given to her by a special aunt. “It will be three years ago this July that I felt truly beautiful,” began Meri. “After being widowed for ten years, I married my wonderful husband, Ed!” At Classic Antiques and More, Meri is constantly on the lookout for unique items for her customers.

“I just love it when someone says ‘Just perfect,’ or ‘Just what I’ve been looking for.’ I meet the most interesting people and love hearing their stories. Please visit my shop soon and tell me your story.”

Classic Antiques & More • 13089 Ocean Hwy. at Litchfield Dr. traffic light • Pawleys Island • 843-314-9273 www.facebook.com/ClassicAntiquesMore

Tracey Rogers

Black and white is Tracey Rogers go-to color combination. The owner of Millie’s went on to say, “I have always loved the crispness of the contrast. And it goes with everything. I’m thrilled that black and white is so ‘on trend’ this season.” Tracey’s home is also decorated in black and white. “I feel like it’s very pleasing to the eye, and it goes with anything. I love taking vintage pieces and fabricating them with something that has a little bit of an edge to it—my antique settee is upholstered with a coral and sand linen zebra print!”

Tracey admits she lives in her blue jeans. “My favorite pair is made by DL1961 premium denim.

They have four way power stretch and the fit is amazing! Right now I’m obsessed with the jewelry line Theodosia. Each piece is one of a kind. My favorite piece is a necklace with lapis beads and a vintage locket. I have a picture of my son inside the locket.”

“We have great summer clothes and styles at Millie’s,” Tracey said. “From a casual tee shirt and shorts, to that great dress for a rehearsal dinner or wedding, there is something for everyone. We are also planning several trunk shows to showcase even more of what our great designers have to offer!”

Millie’s • 11378 Ocean Hwy., Unit 3 • Pawleys Island • 843-314-9314 www.facebook.com/shopmillies

Mel Davis Mel Davis, owner of Simply Divine loves yellow. “My favorite yellow is the color of the daffodils that bloom in my yard each spring!” Since she lives on the water, Mel decorates her home in blues. “My bedroom is done in blues and yellows.” Being in the clothing business, Mel changes her wardrobe every year. “I wear things from the store to model for my customers.” She does have jewelry that is always a part of her wardrobe. “I was married for 53 years, and now I wear my late husband’s wedding band on a chain around my neck. It means the world to me.”

Mel is excited that Simply Divine has recently taken on the Fresh Produce line. “This is a well known line, and my customers will come in and tell me they’ve been wearing one of their pieces for years! I tell all of my customers it is really important to change your wardrobe. Go through your closet and give those older pieces to charity. If someone has a particular piece that they love, but just can’t make work, please bring it in, and I will help you accessorize it or find something to wear with it. It doesn’t have to be from my store, we love helping you look stylish!”

Simply Divine • Downtown Pawleys • 10729 Ocean Hwy. • Pawleys Island

843-235-0520

Robin Putman Robin Putman, owner of The Tulip Tree Boutique in Ocean Isle, loves teal—so much she chose that color for the interior of her boutique. At home, Robin is more eclectic. “I would call my home ten-yearold-shabby-no-longer-chic—and greatly in need of a do over! I enjoy eclectic décor, but I don’t have a problem with a few core pieces that match.”

When asked about her favorite clothing, Rachel was quick to answer. “I love leggings with longer tops and wedges. I think they make me look taller…and slimmer!” Her favorite piece of jewelry is her Meemaw Rachel’s wedding band and two little gold sandal pendants with her daughters’ birthstones, ruby and pearl, that she bought in Hawaii.

This is The Tulip Tree’s first summer in business, and there’s a lot going on! “On the third Thursday of each month, we have Girls’ Night Out from 5-8 pm. There are always refreshments, a special guest presentation, and quite often a local charity receives a portion of our sales that evening. Also this summer and into the fall, we hope to have pop-up trunk shows—these, and other surprises will be announced via email or Facebook only, so contact me at tuliptreeboutique@gmail.com or like us on Facebook.”

The Tulip Tree Boutique • 6778 Beach Drive SW. • Ocean Isle Beach, NC • 910-579-9070 www.tuliptreeboutique.com

Trudy Gauer

Trudy Gauer likes a variety of different colors. “I suppose it‘s because I’m around many different fabrics with beautiful colors, but I’m basic black and white at heart—slimming colors!” At home, Trudy uses traditional styles and loves blue and white with red accents. “I rarely change—with my busy schedule, I leave well enough alone.”

When asked about her favorite clothes, Trudy said, “I like many designers, but I wear a lot of Skirtin Around jackets. They are three-quarter length and very becoming for all ages.” Trudy’s wedding rings are her favorite pieces of jewelry. “This is my second set—my husband gave them to me on our 25th anniversary and they are very special! We were married on a cold January day in West Virginia, and I wore a long white gown and veil—we’ve been blessed with 46 years of marriage.”

“Taylor’s is a family owned business that is dedicated to providing women with the newest fashion trends and one of a kind finds,” Trudy began. “We are constantly adding lines to accommodate the varying styles of our clientele. We want our customers to enjoy a large selection of accessories, a fun atmosphere and individual attention from our experienced staff. We’re looking forward to summer with our supportive customers!”

Taylor’s • 11412 Ocean Hwy., Suite B • Pawleys Island • 843-237-9500 www.facebook.com/pages/Taylors-Ladies-Boutique/166306283384895

JoAnn Johnston “I like all colors,” began JoAnn Johnston, owner of Blue Heron Gallery in Sunset Beach. “I really have no favorite color—my home looks like a gallery of fine arts and crafts. I don’t change my décor, but I do add new art pieces once in a while. I’ll also put something away for a while and bring it out again later, or maybe put it in a different room.”

JoAnn favors quality over quantity when choosing clothing. “I don’t have a lot of things, but when I do purchase something I love, I wear it over and over again. I like long, flowing clothing with clean lines. My jewelry is the same. I don’t have a lot, but what I have is well made and beautiful. It’s artwork made to go with clothing. Back in the ’70s, I stopped wearing makeup and finally felt free to be me. I was finding myself and found that I like the person I found!”

“I’m excited about the new artists and their artwork I’ve found for the gallery. I look forward to presenting it to my customers and seeing them enjoy it. I’ve been in business 15 years and, even in the off season, my local customers support me. This is a wonderful place to have a business.”

Blue Heron Gallery • 1780-10A Chandlers Ln, Sunset Beach, NC • 910-575-5088 www.blueherongallery-nc.com

Dr. Steven White Dr. Steven White, of Carolina Coastal Plastic Surgery, loves Air Force Blue! Dr. White grew up in a military family and his father was the former Myrtle Beach Air Force Base Commander. Dr. White himself is a retired Air Force Colonel, and gained extensive experience with burns and facial trauma through his medical work as Commander of the F.A.S.T. team during the Pan Am hostage incident, U.S.S. Stark missile attack and the Italian Aerial Disaster at Ramstein Air Base.

Patients are immediately put at ease in Dr. White’s relaxed, comfortable office, decorated in hues of blue and brown. The giant fish tank that separates the waiting area from the office allows patients to enjoy the serenity of the fresh water fish swimming languidly around the tank.

Dr. White is certified by the American Board of Plastic Surgery, American Board of Surgery and is a member of the American Society of Plastic Surgeons and the Society of Aesthetic Plastic Surgeons. He is a contributing expert for the popular book, Be Your Best: A Comprehensive Guide to Aesthetic Plastic Surgery.

He is excited to help you attain your vision of a beautiful you!

Carolina Coastal Plastic Surgery & Medical Spa • 1275 21st Ave. North • Myrtle Beach • 843-491-4272 www.figuresandfaces.com

Karen Snover

Karen Snover, owner of Sew Sassy, loves the color turquoise and owns a beautiful heirloom necklace and matching earrings set with that popular stone. Her home has a contemporary feel. “I purchased a white sofa and loveseat the minute all my children moved away. My accents were in red, yellow and black—I LOVED that room! Now that I’m at the beach my favorite room is decorated in a nautical theme.”

Karen’s most beautiful moment was a New Year’s Eve when she was wearing a gorgeous chocolate brown satin and velvet gown with rhinestone accents. “I wore an unbelievable heirloom diamond necklace, earrings and bracelet that a dear friend loaned me. My hair also turned out perfectly that night!”

Karen works at Sew Sassy with her cousin, Lisa Hall, who handles the “fancy fabrics” for custom upholstery. In addition, this unique shop handles alterations, monogramming, and this summer will offer fun craft and sewing classes as well. “Come join us and learn to make a cute lamp shade, a mesh wreath, a doggie outfit or a beautiful summer quilt. We will be offering our group and private sewing classes as well.” Sew Sassy is also busy planning their Wine Tasting/Open House in August to preview their new fall classes... keep an eye out in Sasee to see when!

Sew Sassy • 440 Hwy 90 East, Suite 4 • Little River • 843-273-0305 www.facebook.com/sewsassy26

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Barefoot Landing, North Myrtle Beach (Near The Christmas Mouse) • BlessYourLetterArt.Com • 704-254-8387

BOB B-SAFE BY BRITAX

While out and about with baby, get safety and style with the BOB B-SAFE Infant Car Seat by BRITAX. The safety of BRITAX is now available in matching fabrics of BOB strollers. Install the infant car seat onto the BRITAX Infant Car Seat Adapter and convert your BOB stroller into a coordinating travel system.

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www.sasee.com 37

My Photo Shoot

by Ferida Wolff

I usually think of myself as an ordinary person. I am a mom with grown children, a wife with a supportive husband and a doting grandmother. I also am a writer. I let my words be my public face.

When a local newspaper decided to feature me in an article and wanted a photograph, I got nervous. I never think I look good in photos. But the paper was insistent and told me they would send a professional photographer. So the other day, he showed up, and I suddenly found myself in an alternative world.

The photographer first scoped out several possible settings for “the shoot.” Already I was in media-land. He set up his tripod in my dining room/ library. He told me to look right at the camera. I gave him my best picture face, which consists of tolerant eyes and a bemused smile. After he politely snapped a few of those shots he said I should just be natural. Well, there was nothing natural about my being the object of a photo shoot. The whole thing amused me, and I ended up laughing.

“Wonderful!” he said and snapped a dozen more shots. “Now turn your head a little to the left.”

I did and received an enthusiastic response.

“That’s beautiful!” Snap, snap, snap. “Let’s have you put your hands casually on the table.”

“I feel like a model,” I said self-consciously as I did what he asked.

All I could think of was the TV images of fashion models at work, posing, turning, moving like marionettes, while someone kept praising them. I had a sudden urge to put my hand on my hip and strut through the house.

“You are a model,” the photographer said. “My model. Now, look slightly up and off to the left.”

I did and caught a glimpse of a cobweb I hoped he wouldn’t spot through his camera lens.

“Yes, that’s perfect!” he said. “I like it.” Snappity, snap, snap.

I liked it, too. Not my pose but having someone in my house taking photos as I smiled, constantly approving of me. Certainly a far cry from how I usually spent a morning – doing laundry, making phone calls, revising manuscripts over and over again. I wondered why models always had that bored look. I was feeling really perky.

Okay, okay, by this time I should have been rolling my eyes. I knew that it was his job to say nice

38 www.sasee.com

things to his photographic subject. It didn’t matter who was in front of him; he could have been cooing to a baby or a cockatoo but as I was the only one present, I accepted it personally.

“Step over there to the end of the table,” my personal photographer said.

As I did, I questioned if the glass table would create too much glare but he said he had an idea using the reflection in the photo. It sounded so artistic to me.

For a half hour I moved this way and that, turning my head as requested. I tried to keep from laughing too much and seeming unsophisticated, which I was. But he said he loved it when I laughed and told me I had a terrific smile. Of course, I smiled even harder.

For the last few shots, he aligned me between the glass table and the window. Then he came over and showed me what he had just taken. I gasped.

The light was on my face and the rest of me was in shadow. I was reflected in the table and simultaneously in the window behind. It was nothing like I had seen before. I was overtaken by a Greta Garbo moment.

“It’s so dramatic,” I said.

“You’re a dramatic woman,” he said.

Ah, the perfect comeback.

“Thank you,” I managed to say.

I was gobbling this up. Yet, I wondered if there was some kernel of truth in all this. Maybe I was a tad dramatic and beautiful and perfect in spite of how I ordinarily thought of myself.

He packed up his equipment at the end of the session, shook my hand and thanked me.

Then he left for another shoot, no doubt to flatter the next subject. I closed the door – dramatically – and walked back inside. I noticed that my walk was a little sassier than before. I was energized, well, pumped actually. I had to do something to get back to normal. I charged upstairs and booted up my computer. What got me into the newspaper and prompted the photo shoot now brought me back to the world I usually inhabit. Words, one after the other, flowed from my fingers, heart and brain, reminding me of who I am and, with the tiniest tweak of amusement, the beautiful woman I might also be.

june

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www.sasee.com 39

A Miracle Mile Miracle

by Diane Stark

“I’m ditching school tomorrow,” I announced proudly to my friends at the lunch table in our high school’s cafeteria.

Their eyes grew wide, and who could blame them? This was big news.

My friends and I were part of the Honor Society Set. Not exactly the kids who skipped school.

“You are?” One friend asked. “That’s so cool!”

Another friend was clearly impressed. “Aren’t you worried about getting in trouble?”

Before I could answer, my best friend Bridgette piped up. “She can’t get in trouble. Her mom is going to call in and tell the school she’s sick, even though she’s not.” She rolled her eyes and added, “They’re going shopping.”

“Oh, well, that’s a different story,” my friends said. “Skipping school with your parents’ permission hardly even counts as ditching.”

The truth was out and my cool factor had taken a serious nose dive, but I didn’t care.

I shrugged and grinned. “That might well be true,” I said, “but the fact remains that while you all are taking an algebra test tomorrow, I will be maxing out my mom’s credit card on the Miracle Mile.”

My friends groaned, but I knew that deep down they were envious of my Mom-approved day off from school.

Shopping with one’s mother on a school day might not be as cool as ditching class for more nefarious purposes, but in my book, it was just as much fun. And better still, our shopping day was an annual event.

My mom worked at the library in our small town, and every November the library rented a charter bus and drove it to the Miracle Mile in downtown Chicago. The trip’s timing was especially fortunate for me, a teenage clothes horse with a mid-November birthday. This meant that I could have almost anything I wanted on the trip, and Mom would give it to me as a birthday present. If I found too much stuff, Mom would just hold some back for Christmas.

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It was the one day of the year when the answer was always “yes.”

On the two-hour bus ride to the Miracle Mile, Mom and I chatted and made our plan of action for the day. Mom always asked if there was anything special I wanted, and she made finding that item a priority. This was back when “Guess” jeans were a must-have item for anyone who was trying to look exactly like everyone else. (And that’s what middle school was all about.)

This was also back before the “cool” brands came in children’s sizes.

Nowadays, my daughters and I just pop into Justice for all of their must-have items. But back then, “Guess” jeans started in a 24 inch waist.

And for me, a 13-year-old who looked about nine-and-a-half, finding cool clothes that fit was challenging, to say the least. But Mom was not to be deterred. On those shopping trips, Mom and I found many of my most desired items. I wore them to school proudly – and always with a belt. Luckily for me, wearing jeans rolled up was all the rage in those days.

Although I was tiny, I had the same clothes as my classmates. At the time, it felt like a miracle.

The shopping was great, and the food was fun too. We always went to this deli that named their sandwiches after important people in Chicago. Mom and I always ordered the Hammy Sosa with waffle fries. We split the sandwich so we had room for two of their giant hot fudge sundaes, whose clever name escapes me now, nearly 20 years later.

These shopping trips were an annual thing for Mom and me throughout my middle school and high school years. One year, when it was time to book the trip, Mom and I were barely speaking. Long story short, Mom didn’t like my boyfriend at the time. (It was all her fault. She acted as though one motorcycle ride through the church auditorium made him a bad guy or something. I tried to tell her he was just misunderstood, but she was so unreasonable about the whole thing…)

Anyway, I liked the guy, and Mom didn’t. We tried to develop an “agree to disagree” relationship, but it didn’t seem to work. I was determined to point out my beau’s positive attributes, but Mom just couldn’t see past his black leather jacket and motorcycle. (Although the black tire marks in the church sanctuary were really the crux of the problem.)

Despite our strained relationship, I knew that missing the shopping trip was not an option. It was just too special and too much fun.

And the truth was that I missed Mom. Not that I would have admitted it.

During the bus ride that year, Mom and I talked about our shopping plans, but little else. We both seemed to be avoiding the motorcycle-riding elephant in the room. But that day, Mom bought a Harley Davidson t-shirt for my boyfriend.

“It’s a Christmas present,” she said with a shrug and a small smile.

But to me, it seemed like a miracle. Mom was accepting my guy.

Despite her feelings about him, she was acknowledging that I was growing up and was entitled to make my own choice. (Never mind that “my choice” dumped me sometime around January 3.)

Mom and I haven’t shopped on Miracle Mile in many years. She still has opinions about my choices, but as I’ve grown up, I’ve learned to listen to her advice. She’s smarter now…or maybe I am.

Mom and I bargain shop these days, hitting the outlet malls for kids’ clothes and kitchen gadgets. The days still include lots of girl talk – and giant hot fudge sundaes.

Those Miracle Mile shopping days are some of my best childhood memories. Somewhere along the way, Mom became more than just my mom.

She became my friend.

And that, I think, was the best miracle of all.

june

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www.sasee.com 41

Not Just Another Meal

by Susan DeBow

Please don’t ask me what I had for lunch today, or what I did yesterday.

I won’t remember. But ask me about my first trip abroad by myself, to Ireland, which was thirteen years ago, and I can tell you almost every detail and regale you with stories that would fill a movie. And not just of my first trip to Ireland, but the five subsequent trips there, my trip to England and also to Italy.

Why is that? Why can’t I remember what I told my husband I would do five minutes ago, but given a few minutes, I can transport myself to one of my trips?

When I travel, I am the star of my own movie. I get to be the director, cinematographer and writer. All of my senses are engaged. When I am in travel mode, I am actively writing the narrative of my life. At home, I tend to let the narrative write me. And my involvement wanes.

Even with my eyes open, I can see myself walking through Kennedy airport in New York. The light is dingy. There are temporary walls up as construction is taking place. I am carrying too much. Your first trip, you always carry too much. I had my big camera case, large laptop case and a heavy laptop as they hadn’t yet gotten them to the size of a diaper. A purse and I pulled my carryon. It took a year for my left elbow to recover from the strain I put on it.

We boarded the plane. I took my seat, in aisle one, and within two seconds, my seat mate, began talking to me in a thick as goulash Northern Ireland accent. Within the first sentence I heard the “f” bomb three times, and I had also learned, as my hearing picked out selected words that I could understand, that this fellow had been strip-searched when he had arrived at Kennedy, a few days prior, and had been followed. Ninety percent of everything else he said, in his agitated state, I didn’t understand. But what played in my mind was, holy guacamole, they are going to think I am with this fellow and a member of the IRA – and when I land in Ireland they are going to strip search me and arrest me, and I will never see my family again.

After dinner, I stopped the air hostess and asked her if I could perhaps move to another row where no one was sitting, so I could have more leg room.

I bid my seat mate adieu and high-tailed it to a seat on the other side of the plane where I would try to sleep, (but was too excited), was amazed by how many people on the plane had Irish accents, and thought I had really made it when, in the morning, they handed me a real, warm, cloth to wipe my face. Unfortunately, the warm towel didn’t erase the feelings of homesickness that I already began to feel.

It was also the first time I had flown into the new day. As the sun came up, I looked out the window and set my sites on the coast of Ireland.

By the time we descended into Shannon airport, I realized I was out of my element and even though I had read several travel guides, none of them had addressed the emotional upheaval I was feeling. It didn’t help that the weather was grayer than my mood and that there were soldiers standing by a car, machine guns at the ready.

Everyone else who had gotten off the plane looked to me as if they knew where they were going. And I hadn’t a clue. There was no one at the customs gate, so we all walked through like good sheep.

I headed to the Dan Dooley car rental (see, I even remember that),

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and signed for my car. I had left most traces of my sanity and bravery somewhere over the Atlantic, yet my adventure had just begun. At the lot where I picked up my car, I asked the man if there was a place I could practice driving a bit as I would now have to drive on the opposite side of the road than I was used to. “No, no,” he said. “Just watch the round-a-bouts.”

It was at that moment that I realized – I had gone a long way and spent a lot of money just to die.

And then I drove off, planning in my head how I could hop a plane home the next day.

It took two phone calls to my husband, sitting in the living room of the bed and breakfast crying uncontrollably while the owner of the house tried to console me with tea and biscuits, and a night’s sleep, for me to change my mind and stay and give traveling alone and Ireland a try.

In the morning as I sat at breakfast talking to a woman from England, who had come to Ireland on holiday, the girl who had landed in Ireland the day before, the one petrified of her own shadow and scared to be who she really was, was disappearing with each sip of tea. I apologized to the sweet woman who had tried to console me the night before.

“Oh, you are fine,” she said, her Irish accent sounding comforting instead of just different. “They are all nuts when they get here from America,” she said. “It’s called jet lag.”

I got in the car that morning and took a deep breath. The cows across the narrow street stood at the fence, watching this American international travel virgin. I waved to the cows as I turned right out of the parking lot and onto the left side of the road. The roadmap sat unopened on the passenger seat of my car. For the next three weeks, I would turn left if I felt like it or turn right if it pleased me. If I came to an ocean, I would adjust my path. But for once in my life, I would take the road less traveled.

Me, myself and I…would travel the roads of Ireland. For three weeks I was nobody’s wife, mother, daughter or sister. I’d meet an Irish shepherd who wanted me to stay on the side of a mountain with him, learn I needed to perfect and perform a “party piece” at a “hooley,” perform as “Tony” in West Side Story with other women artists, who, too, had come to Ireland to find a muse, fall in love with the Irish people and more importantly, fall in love with a person I had become a stranger to…myself.

PS: For the record…I had steak, baked potato, salad and cheesecake on the flight to Ireland. But I haven’t a clue what I ate yesterday.

june

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2201-4 Hwy. 17 S., N. Myrtle Beach 843-272-8220 • www.thebarefootcottagenmb.com

june

Valid at the Myrtle Beach LifeWay Christian Store only. One coupon per customer. Coupon must be presented and relinquished at time of purchase. Cannot be combined with any other discounts, including coupons, Savings Cards, Bonus Bucks, and LifeWay Rewards. Available on in-stock items only. Cannot be applied to the following: eBooks, myMedia BurnBar CDs, gift cards, church supplies and programs, NAMB, WMU, LifeWay-branded products, Living Proof Ministries, Bargain Buys, prior purchases, Willow Tree® products, BibleWorks software, Specialty Imprints, textbooks, robes, pre-sell offers, and homeschool products.

C13572

Myrtle Beach 348 Seaboard St., Myrtle Beach, SC 29577 • 843.839.9953

Southern Tide, Treska Jewelry, Soft Works, Kikisol, Charlie Paige, Mud Pie, Covey & Paddle & Much More!

Painted & Reworked Furniture

www.sasee.com 43

Oh, Wilderness!

by Jeffery Cohen

Because I played a little tennis, fished once in a while and barbecued in the park, my wife had me pegged as the outdoors type. As a city girl, she thought anyone who mowed their own lawn was an adventure seeker.

For our first vacation, I proposed a little camping trip at a nice family campground with hot and cold showers, flush toilets and a convenient general store. My in-laws acted as though I were dragging their daughter off to the deepest jungle in the Amazon.

“There’ll be animals out in the woods,” her father warned. “Rabbits!”

“And squirrels,” her mother whimpered tearfully.

“Ditch you? I was worried sick. I thought you got lost!”

She shrugged.

“As long as you’re okay,” I sighed.

“Two guys in brown suits were following me. I thought they were going to rob me. I was really afraid…so I hid our money.”

“Brown suits? With straight brimmed hats?” I asked.

“Were they following you too?”

“Honey, they were park rangers. Well, you’re safe now. You can unhide the money.”

“I’ll be fine,” my wife reassured her folks. “Remember, I was born and raised in the city. I know how to take care of myself.”

The next day we drove out to the country. My wife insisted that she carry all of our money. In case a ferocious raccoon dragged me off into the forest, she wanted to be sure she had cab fare home.

We found a secluded spot, pitched a tent and unrolled our sleeping bags. I suggested we rent a couple of bikes and ride the wilderness trails.

“Bicycles?” my wife asked with raised eyebrows.

“You do know how to ride, don’t you?” I questioned.

“Oh sure. I used to ride in the park all the time. Let’s do it.”

So we picked up a couple of ten speeds. A block from the rental shop, my wife began to swerve and shake, fighting to keep her balance.

“You did say you’ve ridden before, right?” I asked.

“I have. But the bike I rode was different.”

“Did it have three wheels?” I asked.

“No, two wheels. But it was a lot smaller. And it had a picture of Barbie on the side.”

By the time we reached the trails, my wife had run into several trees, a picket fence and two parked cars. That was just the beginning. Each time we approached a hill she hopped off and walked her bike up, complaining that she didn’t have enough strength for the climb. Once she reached the top, she looked down and decided it was too scary to coast, so she walked the bicycle down. When she finally did start to actually ride, she ran into a boulder and snapped her bike’s chain.

I traded with her, using the crippled bicycle as a scooter. She still fell so far behind, that I had to go back after her. I searched for more than an hour with no luck. I was frantic, and decided to head back and have someone from the campgrounds call the park rangers for help. As I reached the campsite, I spied my wife sitting at a picnic table where she was nibbling on a salami sandwich.

“Where did you go?” I gasped.

“After you tried to ditch me, I had to find my own way out.”

“I can’t. I buried it.”

“You what?”

“I buried it under a tree, but don’t worry. I know which tree.”

I breathed a deep sigh of relief as my wife led me down a worn path to a clearing where a huge oak stood.

“That’s the tree,” she smiled with satisfaction.

I dropped to my knees and began clawing the black earth with my fingers. After five minutes I had dug down almost a foot.

That’s when I heard her say, “Or was it that tree?”

I dug a dozen holes before it began to get dark. It was then that my wife and I came to the same two conclusions.

One, we would never see our money again.

And two, city girls may be loaded with street smarts, but they can’t see the forest for the trees.

I was hoping they hadn’t gotten wind of the dreaded chipmunks.

44 www.sasee.com

june

Advertiser Index

From the ’50s until today…

Atlantic Discount Spirits / Boot Legger Liquors. . . . . 39

The Barefoot Cottage. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 43

Austin’s Cabana Café. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45

Belk . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26

Barbara’s Fine Gifts. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7

The Best of Everything. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18

Bio-Identical Hormones. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3

Bloomingails. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26

Bistro 217. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2

Bou’Tiki. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23

Bless Your Letter Art. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37

Breathe. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33

Blue Heron Gallery. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5

Brynn Elizabeth Jewelers. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27

Brookgreen Gardens. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10

Butler Lighting . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14

Carolina Coastal Plastic Surgery. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5

Cabana Gauze. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 29

CHD Interiors. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 41

Christopher’s Fine Jewelry . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21

David Grabeman, D.D.S., P.A.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7

Classic Antique & More. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32

Dezignworks Art and Learning Studio. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3

Classic Attic. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20

Downtown Pawleys. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2

Clothes Mentor. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20

DS Plumbing. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9

Elderberry. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14

Fitness N’ Friendz. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9

Eleanor Pitts Fine Gifts & Jewelry. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19

Georgetown Business Association. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 41

Finders Keepers. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 31

Gray Man Gallery . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2

Grady’s Jewelers. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15

Homespun Crafters Mall. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10

Harvest Commons on Commerce. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20

The Kangaroo Pouch. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37

Island Shoes. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20

Lane’s Professional Pest Elimination, Inc.. . . . . . . . . . 47

The Joggling Board. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27

Lifeway Christian Stores . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 43

Legacy Antiques. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19

Little River Mini Mall. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39

Millie’s . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27

Long Bay Symphony. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47

Ooh La La . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18

The Market Common. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9

Pawleys Island Swimwear. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 31

McLeod Health . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 48

Pawleys Island Wear. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21

Miller-Motte Myrtle Beach. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11

The Pink Cabana. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32

Palmetto Ace Home Center . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39

Purpleologist. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26

Pounds Away of Myrtle Beach. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11

Rose Arbor Fabrics & Interiors. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14

Safe Kids Pee Dee/Coastal. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3

Sew Sassy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33

Shades & Draperies . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5

Simply Sophia. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23

Simply Divine. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2

Socialite. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19

South Atlantic Bank. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7

Southern Guys & Gals . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 29

Strand Security. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45

Studio 77. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18

Take 2 Resale. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 43

Taylor’s. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15

WEZV. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47

Taz. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17

Stylin’

Treasures Jewelers. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23

Aloe Vera Cosmetics. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 29

The Tulip Tree. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 29

Art & Soul. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15

Which Craft?. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21

Protect the ones you love

• Commercial & Residential Security • Camera Systems UL Listed 24 Hour Monitoring • Audio/Video and Home Theater Systems

www.strandsecuritysystems.com 843-318-6392

june

www.sasee.com 45

Visit www.sasee.com for a full calendar and more Sasee events!

4 -9/22

6, 27

7

7-23

7-28

8

21

22-23

23

29

7/4

Animation B.C. (Before Computers): A Century of Animation, The Art Museum of Myrtle Beach, Myrtle Beach, 3100 S. Ocean Blvd., 843-238-2510 or visit www.myrtlebeachartmuseum.org.

Curtain Up, Theatre of the Republic, Conway.

For more info, call 843-488-0824 or visit www.theatreoftherepublic.com.

Moveable Feast, Beth Hoffman discusses Looking for Me, 11 am, Kimbel’s at Wachesaw, $25.

For more info, call 843-235-9600 or visit www.classatpawleys.com.

Riverfest, An American Celebration, Riverfront in Conway, free. For more info, call 843-248-2273 or visit www.conwayscchamber.com.

46 www.sasee.com

Music on Main, 7-9 pm, 6 – Main St., 27 – Horseshoe on Ocean Blvd., North Myrtle Beach. For more info, call 843-280-5570 or visit www.nmbevents.com.

Ocean Isle Concert Series, Fridays, 6:30-8 pm, Museum of Coastal Carolina parking lot, E. Second St., Ocean Isle Beach, N.C. For more info, call 910-398-2538.

Art in the Park, Chapin Park, Myrtle Beach, 10 am to 5 pm. For more info, call 843-446-3830 or visit www.artsyparksy.com.

31st Annual Murrells Inlet Boat Parade & Fireworks, parade, held at high tide fireworks at 10 pm, spectators welcome on the Marshwalk, For more info, call 843-357-2997 or visit www.murrellsinletsc.com.

june

The Scoop

13

june

Wines of the World, “An Evening in Paris,” 5:30-8:30 pm, Litchfield Dance Arts Academy, $30 per person. Wine tastings, hors d’oeuvres, music and dance vignettes.

WARM Adoption Day/BBQ/Bake Sale/Yard Sale, 8 am-2 pm, Old Waccamaw Pottery Mall 1, Myrtle Beach, BBQ tickets are $8 and include a raffle for some great prizes! For tickets or more info, call 843-902-2456.

Disney in Concert: Magical Music from the Movies, Long Bay Symphony, 7 pm, Myrtle Beach High School Music & Arts Center, Adults $35-50, children under 16, $15, Kids Carnival at 5 pm.

For more info, call 843-448-8379 or visit www.longbaysymphony.com.

7/4

20th Annual Fireworks Show, Cherry Grove Pier, North Myrtle Beach, 9:30 pm. For more info, call 866-805-5642 or visit www.nmbevents.com.

Sunday, June 23, 2013 at 7:00pm | Myrtle Beach High School Music & Arts Center

Forget the Sitter, Bring the Kids with You!

TICKETS:

$35-$50 | Adults $15 | Children under 16 FOR TICKETS CALL:

WE’RE GIVING YOU

ONE FREE MOSQUITO SERVICE

concert ticket

843.448.8379 •

TICKETS ALSO AVAILABLE ONLINE AT: www.LONGBAYSYMPHONY.com

Be sure to check out the current issue of the

eBook

With a signed Mosquito Agreement. Cannot be combined with any other offer.

CALL TODAY! (800) 813-4790

www.facebook.com/saseemag

GetLanes.com

Experience the Magic of Disney like never before. Favorite Disney memories jump to life with singers, animation, film clips and original storyboard art. Scenes from your favorite Disney movies – The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, The Lion King and more – projected while the orchestra and Broadway caliber vocalists perform the music the Mouseketeers of all ages Pre-Koncert Kids Karnival at 5:00pm know by heart. A treat for the entire family!

Tickets $5 with

june

www.sasee.com 47

We’re Honored to Welcome One of America’s Best Heart Surgeons.

Dr. Schultz Joins Our Talented Heart Team.

The McLeod Heart and Vascular Institute is proud to have the best and brightest doctors.

And Dr. Scot C. Schultz, board certified Cardiothoracic Surgeon and named one of the Best Doctors in America by Best Doctors, Inc., has all the qualities that make him an exceptional addition.

“McLeod impressed me in so many ways. First and foremost, their medical staff is extremely dedicated to the highest quality care. And, they utilize the best cutting-edge technology and techniques in their excellent heart and vascular program,” says Dr. Schultz.

With additional honors, including being awarded the distinction as a US News Top Doctor in Thoracic and Cardiac Surgery by his peers and the Compassionate Doctor award by patients, you are in the most capable and expert surgical hands at McLeod Health.

McLeod Heart & Vascular Institute McLeodHeart.org 50648-DrSchultz Sasee 9x10.125.indd 1

5/17/13 7:09:12 PM