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I'm Nadine. Thanks for stopping by. The floors are creaky, the kids are loud, but the door's always open and the coffee's always on.

Make yourself at home.

For the Love of a Dress

Just last week I announced that I feared I'm just not cut out to own navy and white stripes.

My navy-and-white striped cotton dress? The colours bled in the wash. It's now a beach coverup.

My navy-and-white striped strapless dress? Spilled red wine on it the first time I wore it. (At least it was in New York. While watching Wicked on Broadway. My life could be worse.)

My navy-and-white striped tee? The washing machine bit a hole in it. (That's my story and I'm sticking to it.)

But the worst of the worst stripe disaster stories has to be my Club Monaco nautical sweater dress.

It cost too much.

I loved it too much.

I wore it to a bridal shower. I wore it on date night. I wore it to a wine and cheese party. I wore it to my bachelorette.


And then I had it dry-cleaned.

It came back with a large catch in it, thick threads pulled out of the dress enough that a central stripe was completely distorted.

I. Was. Not. A. Happy. Camper.

(Somewhat unrelated: I used to consider my personal style as "Audrey Hepburn goes to camp.")

So I left it there, insisting the dry-cleaners fix it. They said they'd call me in a week. That was in April.

By July, I assumed it was a goner.

This week, I got it back. As good as new.

Apparently no one left a note with my number. It had been sitting there for months.

At least I have a dress to wear this fall — and a husband who thinks the prodigal dress deserves a date worthy of its wearing.

P.S. My navy-and-white polka-dot dresses are doing juuuuust fine. Dots win.

Ratatouille, Je T'aime

Shapin' Up