Make Plans+ G*D Laughs:Lice Before London

It’s hard to be chic when you are up to your elbows in laundry, let alone when your youngest starts scratching wildly at her head after weeks in day camp at the height of summer.

Well, that’s how my long-awaited trip to London began, or the preparation time at least when I should have been laying out the clothes I would pack, and styling them with shoes and accessories, a raincoat, umbrella … all those precautionary things you need for London.

Instead, I was confronted for the first time ever with the biting reality of head lice.

My 5 year-old complained her head itched, which given the heat and her very long hair, wasn’t anything unusual. I had never seen lice, but a closer look at her head suggested something was wrong – something seemed to move, or was I imagining it? There was no time to muck around, so off to the appropriately nicknamed “lice lady” we went. In Boro Park, Brooklyn, in a self-contained primarily Orthodox Jewish community, the lice lady and her family lives. There are daughters and daughters-in-law aplenty who help out too, picking heads searching for lice and then combing them out with tedious but effective (and pricey!) precision.

My daughter, it turned out, was infested with live bugs – probably acquired at her very nice day camp. My son and I, thankfully, were all clear. But what happened next was like a military operation and not what I needed one day before delivering the children to their grandparents’ house and setting off for our first grown-up trip overseas sans kids.

Daily Torture

Bedding, cushions, clothing, dolls – anything my daughter had contact with had to be washed. And what couldn’t be washed and dried at high heat had to be bagged and sealed for several weeks, so anything lurking would die. My daughter’s hair still had to be monitored, so grandma was armed with a big bottle of Pantene – the conditioner of choice because it’s thick enough to coat the hairs, and the delousing crew informed me you can get huge bottles at Costco – and a sturdy German-made “lice comb” to torture dear daughter with daily.

The initial head check and subsequent comb through for a 5 year old with very long hair, in case you wonder, was about $175 and the comb, another $25. Somehow it worked out to another $70 each for my son and I to be combed through with conditioner. It’s a cash-preferred business, but if you don’t happen to have $300-plus on you, they will accept a check. This, I have decided, is a business to be seriously considered, though probably not by clean-freak, type-A personalities (like me).

As part of the overall service, my daughter went back for a head check the following day and was declared all clear; my son and I have yet to return for a final checking but that also was included in the price. I was told that London is crawling with lice, so I really should return for a  post-trip check. Ahh, the glamor of international travel these days: if it’s not lice, then beware the bed bugs.

Needless to say, a week away was much needed. And needless to say, in the midst of a delousing operation, I packed completely inappropriately. The scorching heat in New York addled my brain and had me stocked with flimsy sundresses and open-toe wedges for London, instead of layers, and rain-wear and at least one pair of closed shoes. I froze, I was rained on and my feet were splattered with mud on long walks through Hyde Park. But none of that mattered.

And we’re back now to cooler weather and lice-free kids.

Lobster + Pool = Summer Salvation

The sweltering heat is killing me just like everyone else. I’ve spent a disproportionate number of hours with the AC running, much to my annoyance. But there are two things in particular that have given me solace this summer: the weekly lobster feasts at Rocky Sullivan’s pub in Red Hook and the Double-D pool.

Lobster no doubt speaks for itself. What’s not to love about a fresh Maine lobster cooked by the Red Hook Lobster Pound crew and dished up with corn, a teeny container of coleslaw or potato salad, a bib and a mound of napkins for cleanup – followed by a whoopie pie for dessert – all for $25. With a Sixpoint Ale at hand and a table of friends outside on Rocky’s sprawling rooftop you really can’t go wrong. This weekly dinner – lobsters are Friday and Saturday nights only – are a great way to get together with people and include the kids. Who doesn’t like lobster- especially when you can crack and suck and gnaw out in the open without worrying too much about the clean up?

The other almost daily destination that has saved many a scorching day is the local pool. Not some fancy country club or beach house out East, but a New York City public pool, one that came distressingly close to being closed because of budget cuts before the swim season even started this year. Thankfully Mayor Bloomberg and co had the sense to keep open the Double D, so named because of its location between Douglass and Degraw Streets, and Nevins Street and Third Avenue. Its dubious position, nestled amongst derelict industrial buildings and just across the Gowanus Canal, has helped keep it a bit of a secret watering hole for as long as I’ve lived in Carroll Gardens.

The first time I took my children there a summer ago, we embarked on an adventure, strolling down the street in just our swimsuits and towels, past the old men huddled outside C-Town and across not-so-salubrious streets into something of a wasteland butting the Gowanus, the now Superfund site-and aspiring Venice of Brooklyn. The pool is not in the prettiest spot, and it’s not easy to find unless you’re willing to venture outside your usual zone. The rigid rules that go with a City pool can also deter a lot of people – from only allowing white tees and hats to banning cell phones in the pool area. But traveling light (swimsuit, towel, that’s it) and going early all make it worthwhile. It really is a neighborhood oasis.

We’ve been to the pool at least every second day since school ended, sometimes for a full four-hour session and other days for just a quick dip before dinner. It’s worth knowing that children can have a free, school-style lunch, too, if you are there through lunch hours. It’s usually a sandwich, fruit and a carton of chocolate milk – not especially appetizing, but enough to tide waterlogged children over until they get home.

The Double-D pool is open daily until Labor Day. There are two swim sessions: 11am-3pm and 4pm -7pm. For pool rules and information ring 718 625 3268.

Rocky Sullivan’s is at 34 Van Dyke Street, at Dwight Street, 718 246 8050. If you can’t make it to Rockys but still want lobster, head to the Red Hook Lobster Pound at 284 Van Brunt Street, 646 326 7650.

Comings + Goings

A sign in the window at shuttered Cube 63 on 234 Court Street announces that another eatery, Brucie, is coming soon. No further details yet.

Strong Place gastropub has just opened (July 26) in the old Shakespeare’s Sister location at 270 Court Street. The team at Cobble Hill’s Bocca Lupo is behind the new spot, which boasts a seafood-meat rich menu and some 24 beers on tap. Word is a garden area is planned as well, possibly through September.

On Smith Street, there is a new Mediterranean-style restaurant in the works, adjacent the Big Apple deli that has just shutdown after a speedy “buy one, get one free” clearance sale.

This is especially annoying since it’s where my husband has long picked up icecream for me on his way home from work late at night, and it was really the only well-stocked deli on the stretch between the subway station on Warren Street  and Degraw Street that opened late.

Across the way at 208 Smith there is another casualty. Rocketship – the geeky comic/anime store is finally gone for good after a string of lengthy, unexplained closures signaled something was wrong in the land of graphic novels. It’s a shame – my 7 year-old-son loved stopping in there on weekends to choose some quirky book with great drawings and impossibly small print.

That’s More Like It!

Photo: Getty Images AsiaPac

My thanks to fellow writer Kate Godin for pointing out this incredibly divine example of Australian fashion. It channels the inner ballerina in all of us methinks, and redeems the nation after the travesty of a “national costume” that the Aussie Miss Universe contender plans to wear in Las Vegas next month.

This puff of gorgeousness is a design by Aurelio Costarella, modeled during a StyleAid Perth 2010 event in Perth, Western Australia. Aurelio Costarella launched his ready-to-wear and couture brands in 2000 in far-flung Perth and has gone on to dress celebs and socialites from Rihanna and Sharon Stone to Leelee Sobieski and Dita Von Teese, as well as grace Fashion Week runways locally and abroad.

Thank you to Aurelio Costarella and this beautiful dress for restoring my faith in fashion down under and bolstering hope that the dreaded high-heeled Ugg boot won’t stray from the pageant catwalk and onto Main Street.

Streuth! Crikey! WTF? To Aussie National Costume

Arghhhh ... my eyes!

When  you  switch on the TV come August 23 to watch the Miss Universe pageant, which I know you all will, please disregard this crazed ensemble on Australia’s entrant. High-heeled Ugg boots, a sheepskin shrug and a cutout cossie, that’s a swimsuit in Oz-speak: Is this really worthy of a national fashion identity?

Please, Ugg boots shouldn’t be seen outside of your cold apartment in the dead of winter, or at least that’s my take on them, let alone adorned with heels and on a catwalk. Hideous. But, what do I know. Jesinta Campbell, the 18-year-old Aussie pageant queen, is chuffed with the costume, which she will wear to represent the land down under in the national costume section of the contest. “Isn’t it incredible,” Campbell said when revealing the outfit, which a-la-pageant style also reveals plenty of her.

Well, yes Jesinta, it is incredible, in the same way that the Crocodile Dundee stereotype was incredible, and horribly embarrassing. The costume was designed by Sydney’s Natasha Dwyer who works under the Arthur Ave label, and the swimsuit bares a design hand-painted by an Aboriginal artist. To be fair, I actually don’t loathe the multi-layered skirt, but I am not sure how it really speaks to Australia. Perhaps the color palette is reflective of the earthy reds and ochres of the landscape, and common in indigenous art. Or perhaps Jesinta is headed to Rio for Carnival after her Las Vegas jaunt?

Please, before you judge Australian fashion sense based on this national garb,  think Sass & Bide,  Lisa Ho, Peter Morrissey, Richard Tyler, Collette Dinnigan, Carla Zampatti – there are plenty of great designers to emerge over the years, and they really are incredible. Oh and feel free to smack me silly if heeled Ugg boots catch on!

Brooklyn Collective Gets Big New Digs:General Nightmare Shutters

There’s movement on Columbia Street again.  Brooklyn Collective  is moving to its own digs and expanding to include artists’ studio space and classes in cool stuff like sewing and silk screening.

The Collective had been in a space at the back of vintage furniture store General Nightmare , which is shuttering once and for all.

While demand for pricey antiques may be waning enough to send the General packing, the cry for local handmade goods continues to thrive on the increasingly popular Columbia Street Waterfront, prompting the Collective to shift into a 1,500sq ft space that will open August 1.

The Brooklyn Collective was founded in 2004 by locals Rachel Goldberg and Tessa Phillips, jewelry and fashion designers respectively, as a way to give other artists a place to display and sell their work. Member artists share the rent, hence the idea of it being a “collective”, and get to keep 100% of all profits from any of their creations sold.

The Collective is closed through July and will reopen next month at 212 Columbia Street, next to Mazzat restaurant. As part of the expansion, the Collective will be offering studio space to local artists and classes, including sewing, photography, drawing, metal smithing and silk screening. Look out for a schedule in September.

Brooklyn Collective parties are always fun, so stay tuned too for info about an opening event.

Meantime, mainstay General Nightmare  at 196 Columbia is calling it quits, with just a scrappy note in the window advertising a closing down sale to get rid of the last of the furniture before turning out the lights.

The store, once cluttered with antiques and mid-century treasures, had long been a favored hunting ground for locals and visitors alike in search of something obscure or specific.

My husband and I have scoured the basement on occasion in search of Eames chairs and ottomans. It was like slipping down the rabbit hole into a crazy garage sale.

General Nightmare survived and grew even after the death in 2005 of its well-known owner and Columbia Street pioneer Barry Jetter, with partners taking over and sprucing the place up a bit.

But even as the Columbia Street Waterfront is “discovered” almost weekly by one publication or another, and new spots move into the neighborhood, ailing demand for antiques and rental drama apparently encouraged the closure.

Seersucker Serving Up Brunch

This is what I have been waiting for: BRUNCH at Seersucker. The one meal I can drag a couple of hungry children to and not feel too self conscious. Thank you Seersucker for getting this going, as pledged when you opened back in  May.

Fried chicken livers, a catfish po’ boy, biscuits and grits; these I can get behind on a sunny Sunday morning. And I am curious, if a little nervous, to try the Dixie Michelada, Dixie beer mixed with lime juice and hot sauce  – sounds like a hangover cure if ever there were one.

Brunch service begins tomorrow, Sunday, July 18, from 11am to 2pm. Seersucker is at 329 Smith Street, near President Street in Carroll Gardens: Phone: 718.422.0444.

Enough About The Kids, Let’s Get Coffee!

So it’s the last day of school, the children stream out all hot and sticky and relieved to have long, lazing weeks ahead. We, their mothers, dig deep in their backpacks for the report card with that crucial number scrawled at the bottom: the number of the class our children will enter the following school year.

And then it begins: “What class did you get? Who else is in there? Who is teaching it?  Are they good, bad? What’s the scoop?.”  This goes on out front of the school and carries on through the stroll to the after-school hangout, the park, and then via email in the hours long after backpacks have been emptied and schedules put aside for a few months.

If you’re lucky, a crafty parent will gather all the class info and post it in a spreadsheet for everyone to peruse and add to. It’s in our natures I guess to want to know it all, right away. Who wants to walk into class in September and be surprised?

Do the kids care too? Not so much.

But we the parents, from the over-hyped-up helicopters to chilled out, work it out yourself parenters do care who our children proceed with, and who will lead them. We care for them, and for ourselves.

What adults will be tossed into the class boat with us for 180 days; who will we work alongside to fund-raise and feed and entertain our kids? Never mind all those hours spent sitting on a park bench watching little ones play, or killing time when they are dropped at a birthday party, or grabbing a quick meal before a school function.

At the end of the day, what really matters is that our children have great teachers and at least one buddy to help them adjust to the next year. But for the parents, it’s social too. I am as guilty as anyone of wanting to hang with my posse of fun mamas and dads; sipping wine at birthday party picnics, and chatting about life beyond our children, because we like each other – not because we have nothing else to say.

Having had some really terrific classes the past few years, I can vouch for how much it helps when the parents gel. It probably helps the teachers too when there is a cohesive parent group, and if the parents and teachers are happy, shouldn’t it follow that the children will benefit?

Afterall, it’s all about the children. Isn’t it? And if anyone’s wondering:  WE are in 2-3 and K2 next year!

Bagging Dinner in Union Square

There is one kind of shopping I really love: strolling around the farmers’ market early in the morning, before the crowds and the before the hot sun saps the freshness from the produce and me. It was a rare treat today to be in Union Square with an hour to kill, and an empty bag to fill with vegetables and fruits.

I counted at least seven types of radishes from long white, to  French breakfast and all sorts in between; and at least as many different types of carrots and squash and garlic, from big, fresh bunches of bulbs to spindly scapes and tiny individual shoots.

 I grabbed a bit of everything, as well as baby fennel, cucumbers and peaches and will decide what to do with it later: though usually I just lay it all out and the children and I feast as is.

avocado squash

My son will devour the tiny, perfect peaches that send juice running down your arm with the first bite. And I think I will saute the medley of squash: long and round yellow, long pale green, and avocado squash (my new favorite) with some of the fresh garlic shoots and a slurp of olive oil.

There are markets all around the city now, but Union Square is my pick, though it does get crazy busy, especially with the neighborhood restaurants swooping early for the choice produce. For a list of  farmers’ markets and their days of operation, check here.

dinner tonight?

Aren’t Yuppies Just Grown-Up Hipsters Anyway?

Spotted On A Construction Site

 

This snippet of graffiti on some construction to the Area Yoga building on Court Street got me thinking: Aren’t yuppies just hipsters all grown up? Not necessarily older, but in a different phase of life.

Yuppies are by definition young; so are hipsters. Both are urban and both have professions of some form, lawyer or book publisher perhaps VS indie rocker or graphic artist. Hipsters like arts and pop culture, as do yuppies who, to go with the sterotype, typically spend plenty of money on cool stuff … so isn’t it more about a state of mind. Yuppies are settling down, while hipsters are hooking up; yuppies are having babies, while hipsters just have sex.

Maybe I’m missing something in the call for “Yuppies Out: Hipsters In.”  To be sure, these could have come from different scribes, but it seemed an amusing juxtaposition, especially given the makeup of the neighborhood – old-timers who grew up here mixed with Manhattan transplants in search of more space to push a stroller and perhaps a million-dollar brownstone to store it in, and the singletons in creative fields who start work sometime after 10am, once they snarkily dodge the strollers.

Coincidentally,  I spied the graffiti from across the street only because I noticed that upscale children’s store Ola Baby  is going out of business.

Yep, breeders take note; there is a closing sign on the window and a 50-70 percent off sale in the meantime. Perhaps we’ll get another organic, fair-trade, pricey coffee shop … or just another boarded up building.

Ola Baby is at 315 Court Street, between Degraw and Sackett Streets.