Moon Tunes: Livin' La Vida Lunar

I recently picked up a bargain book that looked promising, Night Music by Jojo Moyes.  It's one of her earlier novels, published five years before Me Before You, which put Moyes on the map.  Having loved that trilogy (as well as Sheltering Rain and Windfallen), I expected a sad but satisfying second chance story.  And I got it!

The Spanish House (which isn't in Spain, but England) is a tumbledown mansion that too many people covet.  So when the owner, nasty old Mr. Pottisworth, finally croaks, it sets a chain of events rippling through the village.  The long-suffering Mrs. McCarthy and her conniving husband, who live in a smaller house at the edge of the property, think they deserve it for putting up with Pottisworth.  A down-on-his-luck developer wants to knock it down to build commuter housing.  Yet it's recently widowed violinist Isabel Delancy who inherits it and moves in with her two teenagers.  Left penniless after her husband is killed in a car accident, Isabel is forced to leave a life of luxury in London for a monstrosity in the middle of nowhere.  The house has no plumbing, heat, or electricity, and parts of it are literally crumbling.  It's a mess with which Isabel's ill-equipped to deal, especially in the wake of her loss.  As a career violinist, music has been the center of her world, so much so that it's cut her off from the rest of it, at least according to the children's nanny as she comforts Isabel's oldest:

"And she was fragile, a little like a child herself, Mary had said.  "You often find that with people who have a talent," she had told Kitty one evening.  "They never have to grow up.  All their energy goes towards doing the thing they love."  Kitty had never been able to tell whether or not she had meant this as a criticism." (60)

Faced with feeding her family and salvaging her strange new home, Isabel has to put music on the back burner, playing her violin only at night when she's lonely and thinks no one can hear.

Still, the Spanish House isn't the end of Isabel's story.  Instead, it opens her up to a countryside full of characters, some incredibly kind and others unscrupulous as their greed for the Spanish House spirals.  Their subplots intersect and overlap, weaving an intricate web of rural life and the motivations that fuel it.  Yet it's Isabel's transformation from sheltered lady to forest forager (among other things) that anchors the novel.  Despite her city sophistication, Isabel is naïve about everything else.  Although starting over is painful, she digs deep and finds that she has pluck, armoring her against her enemies and deepening her bond with her children.   

Rich with all the charm, heart, and, yes, melancholy that is Moyes' calling card, Night Music supports the old adage that big houses bring big problems.  But it also shows us that there's more than one way to make music -- and, ultimately, a home.

Bright Tights, Big City

 Day Glo Gumball Necklace

Tee: Mighty Fine,  JCPenney

Blouse: My Michelle, Kohl's

Skirt: Bubblegum, Macy's

Shoes: Unlisted, Marshalls

Bag: Nordstrom

So, I read this Pulitzer-nominated, "serious" book that I didn't much like and was all set to blog about it by saying, "I kept at it and eventually realized that this book was not unlike our friend the crab -- you had to labor away at cracking the claws to get to the delicious meat.  (And yes, my choice of the word "friend" to describe dinner is not lost on me.)."  Then I read this other, wonderful book and said, oh, scrap it, I'll blog about that instead.

That book is Still Me, which is Jojo Moyes's final volume in the beloved Louisa Clark trilogy.  Surely you remember Lou, the bright-eyed and brightly clad caretaker of the handsome, wealthy, and embittered paraplegic Will Traynor?  They fell in love, and then he died and they made a movie about it starring the Mother of Dragons (Emilia Clarke) from "Game of Thrones?"  Well, Moyes wrote another book after that called After You.  Me Before You ends with Lou setting out bravely into the Paris sunshine wearing the bespoke bumblebee-striped tights that Will gave her.  But in After You she's back in England and has to get on with it.  And she starts by stumbling off a ledge and being rescued by a hunky paramedic named Sam.  Sam's steady influence helps shepherd her through 1) a humiliating gig as an Irish-themed Hooters barmaid and 2) becoming a kind of foster mom to Will's surprise of a troubled teenage daughter.  They fall in love and it's lovely -- not at all like when Oliver moves on after Jenny in, blech, Oliver's Story.  (Full disclosure: I've never actually read Oliver's Story.  That's how much I hate the idea.)  But then, maybe that's because Will was doomed from the start, destined, it seems, to be Louisa's teacher (his last name is Traynor, after all, which sounds an awful lot like "train her") as opposed to her partner, making the idea of Lou and Sam go down easier.  At the end of After You, Sam gets shot (what?!) -- but lives, and Lou emigrates to New York City to become a caretaker for another super rich family.  Because, despite overcoming her grief, she still has to grow, to move from the small town where she's always lived to take a bite from the Big Apple.

So, now that you're all caught up, let's plunge into Still Me, shall we?

Louisa is the paid companion (I don't know about you, but that term always gives me the giggles) of Agnes Gopnick, a seemingly innocuous if high-strung Polish masseuse-turned-socialite who's in her late twenties just like Louisa.  As the second and much younger wife of a captain of industry, she's despised far and wide in Manhattan.  That's why she needs Louisa to play therapy dog.  Yet things aren't easy for Louisa either.  Getting used to a new country, a hideous uniform (no small feat for fashion girl Lou -- although she grins and bears it with the same equanimity as she does everything), and the ways of the one-percenters, all while missing Sam terribly, is nothing to sneeze at.  And although this book has an offbeat and keen sense of humor, it isn't of the zany-new-girl-in-the-city variety.  It's a story of layers, and sometimes it tears your heart out.  Because Louisa is put through the wringer, both on the job and off the clock.  Even after everything she's been through, her still-trusting nature lands her in trouble.  Suffice it to say that a lot of stuff happens, and she leaves the Gopnick household and ends up as the, albeit unpaid, companion of an old lady named Margot De Witt.  Earlier in the book, Mrs. De Witt seems like an unfeeling crone.  And initially she doesn't care for Louisa.  But after an emergency throws them together, Lou's kindness and their shared love of fashion win Mrs. De Witt over, and the two soon become confidantes.  As a retired fashion magazine editor, Mrs. DeWitt has roomfuls of crazy designer clothes and accessories, which, paired with her ballsy attitude, made me picture her as Iris Apfel.  (It turns out that this was what Moyes intended, as revealed in the Q&A at the end of the book.)  Luckily, I have this book about Iris, which I first heard about on Tiara's Jewel Divas Style blog, to post here for your viewing pleasure:

Anyway, things are finally on the upswing for Louisa.  She has a knack for getting herself into impossible situations only to muster her considerable imagination and optimism to turn it all around.  This is how Moyes takes us from the depths of despair to the kind of feel-good, well, feeling where the garden explodes into bloom and a trolley of tea cakes races in from the wings (this being an English story; if it were based in New Jersey, then I'd say non-urine-tainted water slides and Manco's pizza).  Moyes makes you work hard for the happy ending (there were more than a couple of times when I thought, why couldn't I have just chosen a nice cheerful murder mystery instead of hopping aboard this emotional roller coaster?).  But that makes it all the more satisfying; no plot hole-filled Swiss cheese here, just the sweet, gritty crunch of gumballs (like -- insert subtle product placement -- the ones in my Day Glo Gumball Necklace).  Because Still Me isn't any old romance; it's a good romance.  Plus a journey of self discovery.

Here's one of my favorite parts.  Partly because it captures the book's theme, partly because it's about clothes.  (I can't tell you my actual favorite part because it's even more of a spoiler than the rest of this post.)  Louisa and Agnes are at the famed Yellow Ball, and Agnes is worried that her avant-garde gown doesn't fit in with the other women's more classic looks:

Lou: "Own it.  Hold your head up.  Like you couldn't give a crap."

She (Agnes) stared at me (Lou).

Lou: "A friend once taught me this.  The man I used to work for.  He told me to wear my stripey legs with pride."

Agnes: "Your what?"

Lou: "He . . .Well, he was telling me it was okay to be different from everyone else.  Agnes, you look about a hundred times better than any of the other women here.  You're gorgeous.  And the dress is striking.  So just let it be a giant finger to them.  You know?  I'll wear what I like."  (54)

Agnes may have billions, but Louisa has wisdom.

Guess you can say she earned those stripes.

Puff Piece: Pompom Wonderful

 Big Pink Pompom Bow Barrette

Top: Kohl's

Skirt (a dress!): Modcloth

Shoes: Guess, DSW

Bag: Marshalls

Belt: B Fabulous

Sunglasses: Rampage, Boscov's

Big Purple Pompom Bow Barrette 

Top: Macy's

Pants: Xhilaration, Target

Shoes: Betseyville, Macy's

Bag: Marshalls

Bag: B Fabulous

Sunglasses: Michaels

Petal Pink Pompom Bow Barrette

Top: Kohl's

Skirt: Eric and Lani, Macy's

Shoes: Ami Clubwear

Bags: Charming Charlie

Belt: B Fabulous

Sunglasses: Rampage, Boscov's

Party Pink Pompom Bow Barrette

Maroon top: Kohl's

Pink top: Macy's

Skirt: Forever 21

Shoes: Charles Albert, Alloy

Bag: Nine West, Marshalls

Belt: B Fabulous

Pompoms are big this season.  Pop into any department store, boutique, or craft supply mecca, and you'll see them exploding from keychains, purse charms, and hair accessories.  Most are in fall or spring colors.  Think tans, maroons, creams, pinks, lilacs, and mints -- basically anything that reminds you of a chocolate with a gooey soft center (and not, incidentally, the healthy fruit juice for which this post is named).  Also, they're usually oversized, guaranteeing that their big, plush selves are the first things you notice when their wearers walk into the room.

I, of course, love the trend, although I've yet to purchase any pompoms of my own.  So in the meantime, I embellished these bows.  Fanciful and fun, they're reminiscent of other fluffy stuff, like clouds and cheeseballs and most of Louisa Clark's outfits in Me Before You.  Okay, so maybe that wasn't the most subtle of segues.  But in the world of pompoms, subtlety gets you sidelined.  

Although I've blogged about Me Before You before, I'll do a quick recap.  Funky fashionista Louisa lands a much-needed job as the caretaker of Will Traynor, a once unstoppable captain of industry who suffers an accident that leaves him wheelchair-bound.  Will's family owns a castle (this being England), setting the stage for the whole royalty-servant thing that inevitably unravels.  After the proverbial rocky start, Louisa and Will become friends, each teaching the other to come out of his/her shell.  Friendship ripens into love, turning things around for both -- until Will decides to end his life, leaving Louisa bereft and heartbroken.  Last summer, the movie version hit theaters.  I was unexpectedly surprised to find that Emilia Clarke and Sam Claflin looked and acted almost exactly like the characters in the novel.  I don't have to tell you how rare this is.  How many times have you read a great book only to see the movie and think, "That's not how he/she sounds/looks/acts/balances a cheesecake on his/her head."  The movie plot also does the novel justice, as it's nearly identical save for a sliver of Louisa's backstory that was cut out, I can only imagine, in the interest of time.

So, when I learned that author JoJo Moyes had written a sequel, After You, I was filled with anticipation and dread.  On the one hand, I wanted to accompany Lou on more adventures.  On the other, I was concerned that her inevitable acceptance of Will's death would only annoy me, cheapening the bond that was so beautifully illustrated between them in Me Before You.  After all, that book seemed like one of those Wuthering Heights/Bridges of Madison County type love stories that should burn on in memory but never, ever be revisited.  (I'd include Love Story in this list if it weren't for the blasphemous Oliver's Story, which I have not, to this day, been able to read).  As it turns out, I needn't have worried.  As Moyes herself hints in the Reader's Discussion at the back of the book, After You isn't really a romance.  It's a story of growth and self discovery.  In other words, the very things that many consider to be the antithesis of the white knight genre.

After You begins with Louisa in a very dark place.  I won't give away too much (feeling a modicum of responsibility to the anti-spoiler alert gods).  I'll just say that she meets a hunky yet sensitive EMT and that they have a real "Gift of the Magi" thing going, only with much more at stake than hair and pocket watches.  Louisa muddles through the minefield of this new relationship as well as Clark family drama, the indignities of her job as an Irish barmaid, and a surprise from Will's past.  It's enough to make anyone run to a support group (which Louisa does, albeit reluctantly).  I've read a lot of novels penned on the other side of the pond and have come to this conclusion: Brits are equal parts charming and dreary.  It's a mix that's strangely compelling, an elixir of introspection and snark tied up in pretty ribbons that always speaks to me.  Ensconced at the crossroads of throwback and modern, this one isn't just a cozy yet class-driven drama; it's an account of one woman's attempt to find her place in the world.    

There's bound to be a follow-up installment (JoJo hints so herself!), rounding out this beloved duo into a trilogy.  I hope that Louisa finally gets to work in fashion, a long-deferred dream that appears as a strong yet unexplored undercurrent coursing below the more dramatic plot lines in the first two stories.  I think there's a chance that she might, especially because After You ends with her shifting her focus from taking care of others to taking care of herself.  Never mind that her (and I'm breaking my spoiler alert rule here, so all persnickety and/or fainthearted readers, please avert your eyes) opportunity of a lifetime comes in the form of yet another caretaker job with an affluent family.  In a way, though, I think this is a fitting setup for a finale, a kind of bookend, throw-your-beret-into-the-air sendoff into Louisa's future.  That said, at the end of After You, Lou's relationship with Sam seems uncertain.  But it's a good, romantic un-romance novel kind of uncertain.  For, as Entertainment Weekly sagely tells us, "After You may not be the sequel you expect, but it is the sequel you needed." 

I think that deserves a pair of pompom-adorned socks, don't you? 

An Eraser Chaser and a Story With Heart

 Sweet Snack Star Necklace

Top: Hollister, Marshalls

Skirt: Modcloth

Shoes: Betseyville, Macy's

Bag: Candie's, Kohl's

Sunglasses: Rampage, Boscov's

Scarf: Express

 Strawberry Snack Star Necklace

Tank: Candie's, Kohl's

Tee: So, Kohl's

Skirt: H&M

Shoes: Betseyville, JCPenney

Bag: Princess Vera, Kohl's

Cherry scarf: A.C. Moore

Sunglasses: Mudd, Kohl's

Polka dot scarf: Wet Seal

Super Size Snack Star Necklace

Jacket: Material Girl, Macy's

Tank: Mossimo, Target

Skirt: So, Kohl's

Shoes: Ami Clubwear

Bag: Marshalls

Belt: Wet Seal

Sunglasses: JCPenney

They say there's nothing new under the sun, and once in a while, they're right.  Years ago, I noticed fellow Etsians selling jewelry made from those kooky Japanese puzzle erasers.  Frilly desserts, fast food, fruits, and more dangled from necklaces and winked from rings, and I, for one, was charmed. Having amassed my own collection of the offbeat office supplies, I started making my own jewelry.  But because I hadn't come up with the idea, I didn't feel right about selling the pieces.  I was so staunch in this view that I even blogged about it.  Then last month I was trolling through my supplies, dedicated to my new-found mission of using up what I had, when I discovered a whole box of the things.  "I should start making stuff with these again," I thought. I picked out the cutest ones and got to work gluing the puzzle pieces together, coating them with clear nail polish, and spearing each with an eye pin and jump ring. The process was tedious but satisfying, and I felt nearly giddy as I transformed the formerly dead weight into wearable whimsy (because really, if whimsy isn't wearable, then what good is it?).  Stringing them up with star-shaped pony beads only ignited my infatuation, and when I finished I wondered if it would really be so bad if I posted them in my shop.  After all, plenty of Etsians made eraser jewelry, just as plenty of Etsians strung beads.  Talking myself out of doing the same suddenly seemed kind of silly.  So up they went, right alongside my felt and collages and everyday beads, just another curiosity in my everything-but-the-kitchen-sink setup.

Jewelry crafts are a little like love stories, which is to say, a dime a dozen yet still singular from each other.  I recently read such a romance, Me Before You, by Jojo Moyes.  This British charmer introduces us to Louisa Clark, an ordinary girl in extraordinary clothing who becomes a caretaker to a quadriplegic, the once powerful and (still) wealthy Will Traynor.  A little bit Beauty and the Beast, a little bit My Fair Lady, and a little bit anything by Nicholas Sparks, Me Before You manages to emerge as a story that stands out from its influences.  At once workaday and full of wonder, it's much like Louisa herself, refreshingly realistic even in the thick of the most trying scenes.  I immediately thought, "Oh, this would make a great movie."  I pictured a gray-skied indie flick sprigged with sweeping countryside and classic British class drama, as gently Gothic and wry as a witty old biddy in a black wedding hat.  Sure enough, when I finished reading, I saw that it was bound for the big screen, in August 2015.  My imagination started reeling, casting James Franco as Will (on account of his snarky smarts and ability to walk the line between deep and douchey) and Zooey Deschanel as Louisa (on account of her unassuming otherness, childlike candor, and quirky clothes), at least until I learned that the cast was entirely British.  Far more sensible, I thought, quickly regrouping, to keep that thread of authenticity throbbing.  I'm not going to say much more about the story, except that it's at the same time predictable and revelatory, true to its contradictions until the last page.  It -- and surely, you must have known that I was going to say something like this -- makes you think about the meaning of life, about the paradox of fate and free will and our part in it all.  That's the thing about books; they force you to hit pause amid life's chaos, trying to teach you something that you can use when you're plunged into the chaos again.

I think all of this will be well worth the price of admission next summer.  Still, it would've been nice to learn life lessons through the lens of James Franco.  Even if he was in Planet of the Apes.