It's been a fun ride for the past six years, and I have more than 105,000 views on my blog to prove it. But I've found, as I've aged, that I've gravitated away from fashion posts, which were never really my thing, anyway, and have moved on to lifestyle posts about gardening, decorating and cooking, truer labors of love.
So here is a fun post that harks back to my vintage fashion blogging roots.
It was 1966 when my long-widowed paternal grandmother, Lina Tobler, took my entire family, consisting at that time of my mom, dad, me and my younger brother, Dave, to Hawaii for two weeks over Christmas. I was ten. It was a magical vacation. I learned to body surf in the gentle waves off Waikiki beach. My brother and I climbed dozens of ancient Banyan trees, whose branches fascinated me with their independently-sprouted roots at every turn, as if a single, central trunk offered not nearly enough stability. We dined on fresh coconut, which I loved, and sampled something called poi, which seemed to my ten-year-old sensibility like squirmy silver worms -- most unappetizing.I remember that it rained every day, even when the sun was shining, a novel sight to my California-born eyes, and there was a constant breeze, almost but not quite a wind, which carried the scent of orchids across the verduous landscape. My father, a talented amateur photographer who spent his entire 43-year career working for Eastman Kodak, drove our rental car to ancient volcanos, unbelievable waterfalls, and other tropical sites on Oahu and Kauai that defied comparison to anything I'd ever seen, even in bucolic California. I was spellbound.
While we were there, my mother bought herself a genuine muumuu. It was gorgeous, fashioned of thick, royal blue cotton splashed with deep pink hibiscus and light blue plumeria blossoms. It had a rounded neckline and a tailored, pleated train falling from the neckline to the floor in back. Made by the fashion-forward Ui-Maikai design house on Oahu in 1966, my mother's muumuu was one of the vintage finds I unpacked when I found the cache of old clothes in 2011 that I had stowed away thirty years prior.
On the occasion of our nation's 242nd Independence Day in 2018, I decided to roll out the old muumuu in anticipation of a mid-summer dinner in Baltimore's Fell's Point harbor area. The venue was Ampersea, a new restaurant in an old spot at which my companion, Jesse, and I have been dining since celebrity chef Jerry Pellegrino first purchased the building many years ago. Through its many iterations, we chosen this venue primarily for the front row seats, either indoors or out, of the magnificent fireworks displays put on by the City of Baltimore each July Fourth and New Year's Eve. The food and service at this location has been more miss than hit, but we persevere, hoping, with each visit, that the new interpretation of fine Baltimore dining will eventually be wonderful in every aspect. This newest makeover, headed by executive chef Nelson Morton, was largely a success.
I was pleased that my now size 8 self still fit into my mother's muumuu, which I paired with other equally vintage finds: a retro necklace of white ceramic triangles with white hammered metal earrings from some long-forgotten California boutique, and an off-white Bag Bazaar clutch I've owned for more than three decades. My turquoise suede-fringed sandals, by Minnetonka, were the only new item I wore.The evening was warm but not uncomfortable. We dined inside by a picture window that gave us a lovely view of the water. My celebratory cucumber and lavender cocktail was outstanding. Although the pacing of the food (they brought an appetizer of hot Brussels sprouts at the same time they delivered our cold salads) left a bit to be desired, and they were out of the first entree I selected even though the restaurant was clearly not full, the lamb chops I eventually settled on were divine, as were those fabulous Brussels sprouts. The soft bed of risotto on which my lamb chops rested was one of the best versions of risotto I've ever tasted -- exactly the creamy texture it's supposed to be -- and Jesse's crab cake was very good, too.
At 9:30 p.m., we left our seats and ventured out to the restaurant's back deck, which sits directly on a pier at the water's edge. From there we enjoyed a perfect view of the fireworks being launched from a barge just across the water from our position. Thirty minutes of excited oohs and aahs later, we returned to our table inside for a slice of creamy cheesecake. The evening was a lovely way to commemorate the union of our fifty states, although it should be noted that Hawaii was not even added to the roster until three years after I was born.
Cheers,
Lynell
We need Hawaii just as much and a good deal more than we did California. It is Manifest Destiny.
~William McKinley
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