Martha’s Life
“Martha Stewart ain’t turning her own damn lampshades! Her lampshades may get turned, but she’s not doing it,” says Mr. Blankenship this fine summer evening when I read him Martha’s August 2010 calendar. I love the detail yet complete absurdity of her monthly calendars. I mean, I’m not saying I don’t have a calendar that looks suspiciously like the block-style one I toted on the front of my middle school binder, only now with auspicious events like Craft Time and Meal Planning listed, because I do, but that’s not the point. Somewhere deep down I think we all aspire to be the person Martha portrays herself to be, relaxed yet in control. But really, the moment she starts writing “Rotate lampshades to avoid uneven fading” as an event on August 24, I realize what type of person gets herself thrown in jail for lying about insider trading.
Falsehoods aside, Martha Stewart Living feeds the OCD housewife in me, and I love it. Daydreaming about throwing fabulous candlelit dinners for 10-20 guests and serving homegrown vegetables alongside grassfed beef on tables draped in linen lovingly stitched by me… I mean, how else would I spend a Saturday afternoon? Thank you, Martha, for bringing housewifery back.
6 Responses to “Martha’s Life”
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Justin Sabestinas
Interesting/grammar-geeky aside: “housewifery,” my English teacher insisted on informing me, is pronounced in three syllables as “HUSS-if-ree,” and originally referred only to needlework.
There. I have successfully thwarted any further commented by lulling your readers to sleep.
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Mandy
That sounds like something a Medieval Studies prof would say. English language snobs, the whole lot, and I love them.
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Crystal Keilers
I love Martha too. I love that she shares her secrets. Her magazine is the only magazine I subscribe too (however, next year I may switch to Instyle cause I think I’m more inspired by fashion, but whatev).
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Lauren from Texas
I think I love you.
PS: I prefer Real Simple. ;)
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Mandy
I hate Real Simple. We can still be friends though :)
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Mama Dalton
I like the pretty colors, the implication that anyone can make anything, ah, simple (like organizing 20 years worth of clutter in an afternoon after work), and the way the Real Simple magazine feels. That aside, I have to partially agree with hubby that I doubt (I highly, sincerely, and hysterically with occasional loud guffaws doubt) that Martha does everything that is on her calendar all by herself.
However, I agree with Mandy in that I love to dream–and I partially agree that it is possible to do each thing–at some point in time–in my home, or out–with enormous planning, money, shear willpower, and sometimes, just a bit of creative thinking or doing (well maybe not each thing that has appeared on those calendars, as I don’t have beehives for which I must “gauge the colony’s health,” nor “storm windows to take down and wash,” nor “screens to put up,” nor do I plan and execute enumerable flights for LUNCH to LA for SUSHI, clean gutters, clean out MULTIPLE cars “INSIDE and OUT,” nor, I must admit, do I “work out,” or “horseback ride,” though I would certainly like to afford to do the latter!”).
But I really do agree that Martha has done lately what Sarah Ban Breathnach did in the early ’90s. She has as Mandy made being a housewife celebrated again. Even though she is the Mega Millions Maven of Wall Street, she didn’t start out that way, and she did it trying to make most of us feel good about the fact that what we could do with our hands, in our kitchens, in our gardens, in our homes–that these things were not only important, they were beautiful and necessary to well-being.
“It’s a good thing” whether she does it all herself or not, I suspect–just as long as we remember that WE don’t have to do it all. That’s what happened to the women of my generation. We thought we did: The Superwoman–She works full time, she raises the kids (sort of), she keeps the husband happy (sort of), she keeps the house spotless (?), and she never asks for any help, and doesn’t get any–and we paid an enormous price until we figured out we couldn’t do it all. Some of us figured that out at least, and discussed it as a family. Those that did are fairing better–those that didn’t–well–some of them went nuts, or their husbands did. Either way, that was NOT a good thing.
The really, really good thing is to love HOME–as a woman and man first, and then as a couple, and define that. And make sure you decide up front who turns the lampshades–because it won’t be Martha.