I wasn’t planning on spending eight days in Tulum. Sick at home with covid, about to tuck into bed at 8 pm, I received a call from one of my closest friends. We lived in the same building on separate floors for a few years of our early 20s. I was used to getting these calls from her then. “We’re going to shuffle board” or “We’re celebrating and the cab’s two minutes away. Put something on.” She’s spontaneous and I trust her completely. When she pitched a getaway to Tulum three weeks from that bleak Monday night, I knew I was in.
Said friend and I landed in the warmth of Mexico, wrapped our jackets around our waists, and instantly felt our New York-based heart rates drop. We were on holiday. Our days were slow, very fresh-squeezed-juice-forward and relaxing. At night, we’d cab to the beach to wander around beach clubs before settling in for an early dinner. We ran into one of her friends from Google. We swam in a cenote. We even watched a single 2015 episode of Keeping Up With The Kardashians. We also experienced what has now been officially coined as “the basket effect.”
Here’s how it started. After dinner, walking back to our apartment, stopping into shops along the way, we found a collection of beautifully made, sturdy baskets. No surprise, my hope on the souvenir front of the trip was to come home with an additional to my embarrassingly robust basket collection. And also unsurprisingly, I knew the exact dimensions and color theme I was after. Typical, laidback tourist.
The baskets we discovered were brilliant in size, but woven with silver, a color I just don’t like. The woman working the shop messaged her boss about getting in new colors before we left. No dice. My friend and I were tempted to settle, until the woman presented us with the basketmaker’s Instagram account. Finally, we were in my all too familiar field of Instagram stalking. I knew it was a done deal.
What I didn’t know was that I would wake up the next day, after Maria, the basketmaker had agreed to stop by our apartment after a market, with food poisoning. I kept my sunglasses on, elated by the sheer amount of baskets that kept piling out of the trunk, but eager to return to the AC blasting over my sick bed. Before I could make a decision, I shoved my purse into my friend’s hands and ran into the apartment to, well, deal with food poisoning.
Ten minutes later, I hobbled back out in my Dr. Scholl’s clogs, to see my friend happily chatting away with Maria, holding the basket of my dreams in her hands. I tried on one other bag, we paid the darling Maria, and that was the scene.
The basket effect is that moment of synergy, of aligned vision, with a friend or a colleague or partner. When someone understands how much something, ranging in scale from an accessory to a life value, means to you and prioritizes it, magic happens.
Archived Outfit
Can I just use your first name, Eva? So, Eva, this friend I’ve been alluding to, has long been moonlighting as my career coach. This fall, I started a little moonlighting of my own, as her wardrobe consultant. I’m including this outfit, though comprised totally of individual choices (student becomes the teacher vibes), because it’s one of my favorite vacation formulas. It’s simple, sure, but the detail that really makes the look for me is a black shoe. I love espadrilles here, even a mule with a tiny heel. It grounds an airy white dress and keeps a basket from feeling too provencal. Bravo, Evs.
This is an Oktoberfest Dirndl, but I own at least one dirndl I wear as a shirt. It’s $42 and the striping is perfection.
Also pretty much own this linen number, which I love to wear on the 95 degree days when I dart in and out of AC.
This dreamy crochet dress is for the true “vacation is a state of mind” among us.
And these are my fav sandals at the moment.
Honorable Mentions
Honorable Mentions is undergoing a Special Announcement takeover this week. I’m starting something new, featured on my Instagram, called Long Live Hotline. I was feeling incredibly upset at the state of the world, and at the same time, incredibly inspired by artists/creative people who were using their gifts to enact change.
Long Live Hotline is a 20-minute video call with yours truly about anything wardrobe related. If I was starting a new job and didn’t already own seven pairs of trousers, I would use the hotline to map out my corporate uniform. It’s great for sorting through that pile in the back of your closet. I can also help you put together a personal color palette or a mood board, based on your favorite items. The hotline is accessible through proof of a $50 donation to NAACP, Environmental Defense Group, Human Rights Campaign, or United Help Ukraine. I’ll be matching the first four donations, as well. Write back to me with questions! I hope this inspires joy, positive impact, and maybe even, great outfits.
Thank you so much for reading. This week, I wrote about bed sheets, a showerhead, bar carts, and Exponent. See you next Thursday! x