After a much-too-long time away, I finally returned to my favorite city in the world: New York. There is simply nothing like it. The energy, the noise, the general sense that at any moment something fabulous, disastrous, or fabulously disastrous is about to happen. I love all of it. Even the parts I probably shouldn’t.
a little preview of our upcoming collection... the colors are so fun!
The trip was originally planned around NYFW and, more importantly, getting our ish together in time to actually show at the trade show. A minor detail! There is an almost comical amount of work that goes into appearing as though everything came together effortlessly, which, I suppose, is the entire business of fashion.
Somehow, we pulled it off. Samples arrived, racks were filled, things were steamed, schlepped, repacked, probably lost, and then found again. And suddenly there we were, looking remarkably composed considering what it took to get us there.
I’m incredibly grateful to the team for hustling behind the scenes and making sure we had everything we needed to actually show up and look like we belonged there. Andrew, Agatha, Tess, Priscilla, Monica, and Alana, you are angels. Or possibly enablers. Either way, thank you.
The cutest new cherub graphic we're introducing in spring, inspired by my son Hemingway
For our booth, we made some very beautiful giveaway things, but naturally I became most attached to the stickers and matchboxes. It’s always the little things, isn’t it?
If you’d like some, email us at Rh@recreationalhabits.com with your address and, assuming I have a few left and you don’t live somewhere that requires an international customs form, I’ll happily pop some in the mail. Consider it a tiny RH care package.
a sassy sticker for friends who came by to see us
The other major event was college touring, because somehow my oldest stepdaughter is going to college next year. I’m not entirely sure who authorized this, considering she is still, in my mind, my little Pony Club champion. And yet, here she is: gorgeous, impossibly grown-up, and casually informing us that she would like to go to school in New York. Naturally.
Kingsley and I never giving up an opportunity of great lighting - serendipity is always just around the corner!
Taking her to NYU (the best school, though I’m obviously completely unbiased) was a particularly full-circle moment. It had also been a very, very long time since I’d properly been back on campus, which was mildly alarming. NYU has had quite the glow-up since my day, thanks in no small part to an alumni community generous enough to put the rest of us to shame. New buildings, new spaces, all very impressive. Meanwhile, I was mostly walking around wondering how I could possibly be old enough to be touring colleges with one of my children when I was surely just a student there myself about seven minutes ago. We ended up visiting a few other fashion schools in the area.... watch out New York City!
Confused by this monstrous new gate structure on West 4th.
pretty photo taken by Kingsley
Like always, New York delivers and leaves me with the ultimate inspiration hangover.
I was 18 when I moved to New York. Bright-eyed, fresh-faced, with huge dreams and a willingness to outwork anyone in the room. I had spent what felt like my entire life waiting for that chapter to begin. I knew exactly what I wanted, or at least I thought I did, and I didn’t give much thought to what came after you actually “made it.”
Sure, I figured I would have children someday, but someday was very abstract. I was never going to do it until I was “ready”...whatever that means. Then I left the city during Covid, became a stepmom, quit my corporate job, and, of course, discovered that life really does exist outside of Manhattan!
Although, I think part of why New York still pulls at me so much is that I never felt like I got a proper goodbye. I sort of Irish-exited the New York years I had spent my entire life dreaming about. The ones that I had gripped so tightly once they were finally mine. There was no grand finale. No closing scene. Life just... moved on. And the funny thing is, it was only after I left New York that I realized I had actually “made it.” Not in the way 18-year-old me imagined, but in a way she probably couldn’t have imagined. I settled into this beautiful, full, slightly chaotic life that I love so much.
So I’m leaving this trip reinvigorated, wildly motivated, overwhelmed with ideas, surprisingly well-rested, and completely homesick for my little ones and our quiet little farm life. Maybe that’s the sweet spot: loving the life you’ve built while still allowing yourself to dream about what’s next.
Should I start casually Zillow searching for a pied-à-terre? JK. You know I already have.
I’ll be back soon. xx JSM
