Birth Announcement: Elle Summer

I have big news to share!
My husband and I welcomed a brand new baby girl into the family this summer!

Since this is our second child, I've followed tradition and upheld every second child cliche out there. I haven't written anything in the baby book. I've taken more than a month to share this birth announcement. And I seem to be losing the baby weight much more slowly this time around. Awesome. I bet Kate Middleton has already lost all her baby weight. Kim Kardashian, too. Thanks, ladies.
But back to my sweet baby girl. Her name is Elle (we love the one-syllable names in our family: Jim... Jill... Shane... you get the picture). We might be biased, but we think she's as charming as Elle Woods, as captivating as Elle Macpherson and fascinating enough to land the cover of Elle magazine. But of course, her first cover will be either People or Vanity Fair...it's family tradition.

My Shorts Story

Above right, my inspiration, J.
Above left, her inspiration, J. Crew.

Ack! I've been photo-bombed by Baby Shane!

Nearly a year ago, I had a baby. Last spring, I finally lost all the baby weight (yay!), and I couldn't wait to spend the summer in my standard warm-weather uniform of sundresses, shirt dresses and shift dresses. Especially since I'd spent the previous summer in maternity wear. But I quickly found that dresses aren't practical for new moms. If you're nursing, you have to fully undress every time the baby gets hungry. Dresses aren't ideal for playdates, picnics and park outings either. If you're going to be running crawling around a playground with the under-one-year-old set, you need shorts.
And -- brace yourself -- aside from my running gear, I didn't own any shorts. How is that possible, you ask? Well, I always thought dresses were easier. I also felt like I looked all wrong every time I put on shorts. I end up in too-long cargo shorts that made me look like a 14-year-old boy on his way to the skate park. Terrible.
My beloved Vogue, Bazaar and Elle magazines didn't exactly give me guidance on how to dress for playdates. Sure, I knew exactly I'd wear to the Emmys, but I had no idea what to wear to the park!
Then, I found a website called J's Everyday Fashion. It had thousands of pictures of J. managing to look cute in shorts (and skirts, and jeans). She wore fun colors! Belts! Great shoes! And she did it all on a budget! Which is ironic, because she inspired me to do an obscene amount of online shopping for new shorts, as well as coordinating tops, belts and shoes. I honestly think the management at Zappos is planning to honor me with some sort of "Customer of the Year" award soon. Anyway, when I get that award, I plan to thank J. for inspiring my post-baby makeover, or Momover, if you will. And I'll thank my husband for not making too many comments about our skyrocketing credit card statements. And my baby boy, for napping in my arms while I balanced the iPad on my knees and shopped online. And the good people of Zappos, for honoring me with this award. And my fellow nominees... it's an honor just to be mentioned in the same breath as you!
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Monday Magazine Mania: The Beginning

Twenty years have gone by, yet I remember it perfectly.  I was with Mom at our local grocery store, Felpausch.  While she perused the greeting cards, I wandered over one aisle, to the magazine row, just out of boredom.  I didn't actually care about any of the publications.  But then I picked up Teen magazine.  I was 13, and -pow! - here was my holy grail.  

I didn't know how to dress, what to do with my hair, or how to talk to boys.  And here was a manual explaining how to do all those things!  I begged Mom to buy it for me, and she said yes!  Once at home, I studied every word, every page.  And then a subscription card fluttered out.  Soon, I was handing over $12 of my babysitting money to Dad, and in return, he gave me a check made out to Teen magazine.  Thus began one of my longest, and most wonderful relationships.  
I kept every issue in mint condition.  I saved them, and referred back to old issues regularly.  Nearly two decades later, I'm still mad at my then-best friend for borrowing my first-ever Teen -- and then CUTTING IT UP for a scrapbook.  You don't burn someone else's Koran... and you sure as heck don't cut up her "Bible!"  But I digress...
I subscribed to Teen for years, but I wasn't always monogamous.  After a couple years, I met Sassy*, and began a several-year-long lovefest.  There was also a fling with Seventeen.  And then, the mother lode.  A family friend known as Grandma Jan had a thick stack of fashion magazines she no longer needed.  Did I want them?  And that was how, in one day, I met the dear friends of my distant, grown-up future: Elle, Bazaar and Vogue.  I'm sure Grandma Jan never knew her pile of old magazines was one of the most cherished gifts I ever received.  
In college, I majored in journalism, expecting that Anna Wintour would someday move on from Vogue, leaving the Editor-in-Chief position to, of course, me.  But then I changed my focus to broadcast, rather than print, journalism.  (And, also, Anna Wintour never moved on from Vogue.)  So instead of editing Vogue, I grew up to be a Talk Show Hopeful and an admitted magazine junkie.
Signs that I'm an addict include problems like this:  When I first spotted In Style on the newsstand (featuring Demi Moore in curlers) in 1996, I fell in love.  But I've never been able to subscribe, because I fear I might miss an issue while I wait for the subscription to kick in.  So I just keep buying it at the bookstore... month after month after month, for fifteen years!  Also, I never, ever open up a perfume sample, because that, to my warped mind, would damage the integrity of the magazine.  And don't even get me started on my thoughts about using magazines for scrapbooking purposes!**

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*The Bloggess shared a recent interaction she had with the editor of Sassy.  Her story is hilarious- read it immediately.  Compared to The Blogess, I'm completely useless at this internet thing.  Sigh.

**Although, I must admit, if I feel the need to send hate mail to my nemesis Bill Schulz, I will send a creepy letter composed of cut-up magazine letters.  But I DON'T cut up a gorgeous monthly magazine for the job -- I use a less-valuable-to-me weekly magazine (apologies, In Touch Weekly editors).