Clothing makes us feel—and that matters.

How we feel in our clothes quietly shapes how we walk through the world. Our posture. Our presence. Our willingness to be seen. Style isn’t superficial; it’s ...

For a long time, Valentine’s Day carried more weight than I cared to admit. Not because of chocolates or flowers—but because of what it seemed to say about my worth.

When I was young, Valentine’s Day...

Some guy said to me: “Don’t you think you’re too old to sing rock n’ roll?” I said: “You’d better ask Mick Jagger.

—Cher

Beatles or Stones?

Back in elementary school, I collected Beatles trading ca...

For last year's words belong to last year's language. And next year's words await another voice.

~T.S. Eliot

Each December, I choose a word to guide the year ahead. Not a resolution, not a task l...

Tonight, I cleaned my silverware.

It has been sitting quietly in a drawer for years—not because it didn’t matter, but perhaps because it mattered too much. As I polished each piece, I realized I w...

Sorrow may shape you, but it doesn’t define you. 

There are moments in life that change everything. Moments we never see coming, moments we’re not ready for. Some of them leave us breathless with ...

Everywhere you turn these days, there’s a cause asking for help.
And truthfully, most of them are worthy.

It’s easy to feel torn—pulled between compassion and fatigue. The need is endless, the world f...

Have you ever noticed that some people older than you energize you - and some much younger drain you?

It's something I've bee thinking about lately. I've had conversations with "elderly" women that l...

When my husband turned 65 last week, we celebrated with a West Coast cruise. (Yes, I robbed the cradle—he robbed the grave. We call it even.)

It was everything I needed and nothing I expected. I t...

That’s what I find myself whispering when I see pumpkin spice lattes and Halloween displays popping up already. Not yet. Finally, after a summer that was more raincoat than sundress, the sun has shown...

This morning, I stood in front of the mirror - barefaced, barefoot, seventy. I paused. Not to critique. Not to smooth or fix or second-guess. Just to witness.

And what I saw looking back at me wasn’t...

My suitcase is open on the bed, and I’m already overwhelmed. I have a trip coming up, and I’ve been thinking about what to pack for far too long.

Not because I’m trying to look fabulous (although tha...