Timothy Finton posted this photograph of Middlebury College on our True Prep Facebook page.  The Adirondack chairs are so welcoming!It seems to be finally Spring, though with an undercurrent of the chills.  It’s about time.  

I have been quiet here for too long, but just know that I wanted to make an appearance, but have been busy with a lot of family and housekeeping chores that have been time-consuming and complicated.  

Meanwhile, my classmates at Riverdale Country School are, for the first time since the invention of the World Wide Web connecting (without the help of the Alumni Office) just to catch up and trade memories.  It’s been extraordinary, reading the hourly comments by the boys (I can’t help it; even though they are probably bald and certainly middle-aged, they’ll always be boys to me) in my grade.  And by the way, how can you be a master of the universe and have so much time to play on email?

A group of us — perhaps 18-25 (about a quarter of the class) will show up at dinner next week.  The emails reveal both a closeness and a warmth (disguised, often as snark) that are undiluted by the years and remind me how much I value the people with whom I grew up.  

(An unflattering shot of part of our campus.  To the left of the photograph lies the gorgeous Hudson River.  I ate French fries for lunch every day of my senior year in the round outcropping you see of that building.  French fries and sometimes a side of French fries.)

As my exhibits grow older, I suppose I tend to feel more and more nostalgic.

More soon.

xLisa

Ooh!  Maybe the girl I just answered will check out your Lazyjack bowties.  Post some pictures so we can see them.

Your boyfriend is lucky you still date him.  I am happy that you are buying him a real bow tie.  You can do anything from a bright Social Primer tie (though experiment — some of those are too casual for black tie), to a subtle maroon polka dot from Brooks Brothers, or something more collegiate from Vineyard Vines.  (They might even make a bowtie with your school mascot or in your school colors.  Check on their website.)  

While you’re at it, accidentally “lose” those clip-ons.  Watch “How to Tie A Bowtie” videos on Youtube.

Cheers,

Lisa

terrapinstationers:

americangentility:

Hampden-Sydney College Kaleidoscope 1981.  Actually worked in conjunction with Lisa Birnbach.  The yearbook included an introduction by her.

@LisaBirnbach

Yes, it’s true.  I wish I had my copy of that Kaleidoscope.  In 2010, when I visited Hampden-Sydney again, many people brought their copies for me to sign.  What a special, preppy place.  They don’t make them like that anymore.

(Source: mkeelerh)

It’s the time of the year when this year’s high school seniors have received their envelopes (though they read their results online first) and are getting used to the idea of where they will be headed, come Fall.

It’s also a stirring moment for fans of the Ivy League.

Need I remind you that the Ivy League is made up of 8 northeastern universities for the purposes (originally and only) of athletic competition?

Brown, Columbia, Cornell, Dartmouth, Harvard, Princeton, University of Pennsylvania, and Yale.  That’s the story.  All together, they comprise about 59,560 students (out of 313 million Americans) if you believe Wikipedia.

First Up:  Susan Patton, a Princeton alumna from the class of 1977.  She wrote the following editorial — unbidden — to the Daily Princetonian, just because she wanted to share her advice.   

OPINION: Letter to the Editor: March 29, 2013

New York, N.Y.

I’d love to hear back from you about this.  (It doesn’t appeal to everyone to get hitched in college, no matter where we spend our undergraduate years.  Some of us want to live first.)  

And now it’s time for a little Pat Robertson:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NesbG-Lj2g0&feature=player_embedded

(Did this link work?)

In other words, don’t panic if you go to State.

—Lisa

I do like the expression “Spring Vacation.”  I do not like the expression “Spring Break.”  I do like to call physical education “gym.”  I do not like to call it “P.E.”

More?

I love fruit.

I love peanut butter.

I hate fruit with peanut butter.

I love strawberries.

I like chocolate (sometimes I love it.)  I loathe strawberries dipped in chocolate.

I do not consider white chocolate chocolate, or even food.

I love my children.

I like whipped cream.

I would be deeply offended by seeing my children covered in whipped cream.

I dislike the word “blog” but I blog nonetheless.

Today is the first day of Exhibit C’s Spring Vacation.  This weather is no warmer than the first day of her “Winter Break,” i.e. Christmas Vacation.

One day this blog will be better designed, more interactive, and full of cool things to do and buy.  But not today.

As Pope Francis bade us all — Good night and sleep well!

Lisa

You don’t have to be inexperienced to have your work rejected.  Just today I was turned down twice, by two editors.  In fact, it was worse.  I had one proposal rejected — no reason given, and a written and scheduled piece killed by an editor — no reason given.  

I’m sure there’s some explanation for the editors’ decisions, but I would like to know what it is.  Is this the new trend to simply reject without explanation?  How sloppy.  I think anyone who works on a project — even a proposal for a project — deserves that much information, that much respect.

I’m going to tell you that rejection still stings, 32 years after my first book was published.  (How is that possible?  Don’t do the math.)

So rather than punching a pillow or pouring a stiff drink (the news all filtered in before 11 am), I went to the gym and walk-ran the treadmill for 33 minutes (but who’s counting), listening to my iPod shuffle.  Funnily enough, it shuffled straight into melancholia.  Why did you leave me?  Please stay with me.  How blue are you?  It was perfect. I wonder if my wallowing burned extra calories?  By the time I finished and headed to the mat, it shuffled upwards to some perky jazz.

Work is hard.  I don’t mind that at all.  Sometimes it’s so hard my head hurts, which isn’t a bad feeling.  Finding le mot juste is worth the struggle.  My work is hard too, because my industry is going through enormous shrinking pains, and editors are scared to invest in writers.

We all have bad days and good days.  I’m hoping this day turns itself around.  And I’m hoping all of you have a fruitful day.

Lisa

For me, the pleasure of writing — which is different from writing — has much more to do with finding the precise way of expressing what I feel I want to express.  To be candid, it has very little, if nothing to do with the reader; if I’m faithful to my intentions, I hope readers will follow along.  

Over the years I have heard from more of you than I would have ever expected.  In the “olden days,” I received many letters, cards, thank you’s, why didn’t you’s, and could you’s.  

Now with all the accessibility of the www, it is not a big deal to communicate with anyone anymore.  Most writers have websites, Facebook accounts, blogs, Twiiter, Instagrams, Pinterest accounts, and so on.  

And over the last few years my inboxes are filled with questions about what to wear to an afternoon wedding in a pasture, questions about shoes, questions about colleges, and so on.  It is fun to receive them, and I enjoy answering them.

I rarely hear from anyone from outside the preppy realm.  (Look, I get that I’m writing this on a blog entitled True Prep.) Duh.

But I did get a note from someone who found a copy of True Prep at his military base in the Gulf and felt like writing.  Really?  How did it get there? What would make my book appealing to someone fighting in a war?  (I didn’t address the notion of camouflage — which I should if I ever update it, and there’s little time for squash or apres ski in Islamabad.)  In other words, I appreciated his note, and I was a little embarrassed about it as well.  Frequently I just feel like a goofball, doing my goofball thing.  

“I enjoyed it, thank you for writing it.”

He didn’t have to say that.  He didn’t have to do that.

My response:

“I was moved to read that you found one of my books while serving our country. Thank you for that. I hope it took you out of the grit and grind of what you were doing, even for a few moments. ”

I love hearing from all of you.  In a way, I wish all of my writing could be a dialogue instead of the monologue it is.  

Thank you all for writing.  We need one another.

Lisa

Hi Again,

I had written a better post (how defensive is that?) a little while ago, and it disappeared into the ether.  So this post may be inferior.  You’ve been warned.

Regarding New Year’s Resolutions.  This year I experienced my personal best, and didn’t break a resolution until January 6th.  I feel pretty good about that.  

I want to show you my favorite photograph of the month (I say “show” not “share.”)  I posted this on my twitter account @LisaBirnbach and on the True Prep page on Facebook, so if you’re not sick of them  already familiar with either of those, here it is for your enjoyment.

Yes, it’s cold for us chickens (when it’s not unseasonably warm).

In  any case, a few housekeeping notes.  Very very soon, this blog is going to undergo a serious upgrade.  In fact, you could say it’s going into rehab, (the preppiest kind of time-out).  I hope you will like the new and improved Trueprep.com. 

Speaking of all things preppy — including rehab — look what I read today online at the Los Angeles Times’ dot com.  This is a paper that takes its real estate reporting seriously.  F. Scott Fitzgerald’s house in Baltimore is for sale.  

http://www.latimes.com/features/books/jacketcopy/la-et-jc-f-scott-fitzgerald-baltimore-town-house-20130130,0,4281960.story

Tempted?  Baltimore is an interesting city, not to mention the home of crabs, the worldwide center of Lacrosse, and the residence of living artists like Anne Tyler and John Waters.  

Finally, in the End Of Civilization As We Know It Dept.:  I wanted to look up Emily Dickinson, to make sure her last name wasn’t spelled with an ‘e’.  When one Googles Emily, I shudder to say, the first one that comes up is someone called “Emily Maynard,” a former contestant on “The Bachelor” or “The Bachelorette.”  Or maybe both.

Emily Dickinson, poet

(December 10, 1830 – May 15, 1886)

Never married.

Emily Maynard, Professional um…Bachelorette

(February 1, 1986 -     )

Probably has not read any poetry.

Am I a snob?  I think so.

—Lisa

As 2012 stumbles to its demise, I think we were taught lessons that we cannot ignore (and couldn’t if we wanted to).

     Nature is powerful.  It can be harnessed, but it cannot truly be controlled.  

     When one is feeling upset, it is wise not to have a loaded gun at hand.

     The less attention we pay the Kardashians, the less attention they will get.  (Unheeded.)

     As our privacies are being eroded and lost, we learn to value them. 

     Since we must all share the same planet, we might as well try to get along with one    another.

     For the money, nothing beats a book for sheer entertainment value.

     Still boyish Paul McCartney gets to close the show.

Soon my daughters and I will be writing down our New Year’s Resolutions, as we do every December 31st.  (My son, Exhibit A is away with friends, so he’s off the hook this year.)  We seal them in an envelope and then open last year’s resolution envelope to see how we’ve done and to see how we’re doing.  I know I can do better, and I want to do better.  I think I will learn how to be a better grown up in 2013.  I probably say that every year, but I actually mean it now, in the final hours of a truly difficult and yucky 12 months.

Like many of you, who have found your talents less relevant to the way business is conducted these days, reinvention is part of my mission too.  I can’t wait to see how it shakes down for me.  In fact, I’m chomping at the bit.  

I send you all my wishes:  Good health, a strong core, a lucky break.  I hope you find your good scissors that must be in the den and spare reading glasses you had in the car, I hope your stock splits, your child graduates, you get the promotion, your handicap goes down and your popularity goes up.  

Happy New Year,

Love, Lisa