I have to work hard to remind myself that successful crafts, cooking, and lives do not depend on an ascending scale of bigger and better. Sometimes you cook a souffle that rises higher than Conan O'Brien's pompadour and sometimes you impress the entire neighborhood with the abundance of blooms on your windowsill or the most beautiful scarf in creation. Sometimes you take a trip to Paris that is a whirlwind of kir royales and romantic looks.

But then there is everyday life, which can want for inspiration and loveliness. Rather than feel the pressure to make a random Tuesday a carnival of amazement, I'm trying to remember how great the little touches are, and how satisfying making one tiny, pretty thing can be.

I've gotten back to basics here with the simplest materials: big squares of felt for $.44 and $.29 skeins of embroidery floss. I used a straightedge as my guide to cut the felt into smaller felt squares about 2x2 inches. Then I tried to figure out the blanket stitch. It was a cinch once I made up a way to stop and start a line of stitches. I worked on these while listening to great Brazilian music some friends brought back from their vacation in Rio. The coasters turned out sweet and lovely, a sure way to brighten any random Tuesday.

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Who wouldn't want to be a French girl? Whether true or not, we all imagine she looks great in skinny jeans and ballet flats, totes baguettes in her bicycle basket, doesn't get fat, and brings a graceful touch to everyday living. Sadly, I am not French. But I did get to spend a week in Paris, and I can tell you that an ordinary American girl can quickly feel sublime and in her element among all that foie gras.

First, you will feel beautiful in Paris. Every building, imposing or understated, every little dog, every boutique window, every view from every bridge - all of it is lovely. And soon the atmosphere of gorgeousness will go straight to your head. You may find yourself at the dinner table arching your back like a cat and gazing through lowered lashes. You will raise an eyebrow, smirk, and flirt. You will, and this I promise, forget any silly insecurity that dogs you stateside. Your feet may ache from the walk up Montmartre and you may step in something you wish you hadn't. It won't matter. Listening to an old man with an accordion and letting the cold wind whip through your hair at night, you will be unstoppable gorgeous and irresistibly alive.



Second, you will never be so happy to sit down to a meal. Whether in grubby, smoke-filled tourist traps or Michelin-rated temples to gastronomy, the food steals your heart. Some of the best fun is walking through one of the many markets (or even a street that is crowded with food shops) and marveling at all your favorite kinds of cheese, the astounding number of wines for less than 10 euro a bottle, the sumptuous red flesh of a duck breast, or the intricate and precious pastries that shine under a thin glaze. You may well become jealous of the French gastronomic advantage as you nosh on duck rillette and crisp, airy baguette or sip your rich cafe creme in the warm light of a bistro with a horseshoe-shaped bar. You will forgive them this edge.



And you will, of course, be in love. It is a statistical fact that everyone falls in love in Paris. You may become charmed again by the quotidian details of daily life or the sudden cold rain that leaves the world slick and black. I hope you may take up a love affair with yourself, remembering you're not so bad at all (in fact, some say you are enchanting!). You may - what luck! - meet someone new to get lost with in the Louvre and kiss next to the Seine. And if you are very, very lucky, you may fall in even deeper with the one who brings you coffee each morning and wishes you sweet dreams every night.

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I was very flattered when Inner Ocean Publishing wrote to ask if I was interested in receiving Kimberly Wilson's book, Hip Tranquil Chick. I said yes in a jiffy, of course, and then promptly forgot all about it.

Fast forward to the dark days of December. I am frazzled from endless to-do lists and taking poor care of myself. One evening, I find Hip Tranquil Chick in my mailbox. It is as welcome as an early visit from Santa.

If you are like me, you are seduced by the promise of self-improvement and the notion that we are always able to become better versions of ourselves. With her little hot pink book, Kimberly Wilson puts thousand-year-old yoga principles into your hands and shows you to how to apply those tenets to every aspect of your modern girl life.

Do not be mislead into thinking leopard motifs equal fluff. Kimberly has written a soulful guide to living both on and off the yoga mat. Specialized yoga sequences are geared towards whatever state you're in (your hips are tight, your heart is heavy, or you just had too many nachos), but I also found the advice on living a passion-filled, purposeful life spot on. Like a calming, imaginative friend you'd like to grab a cup of tea with, Kimberly encourages you to visualize your ideal life in all its detail. What time would you wake up? How do you get to work? What work do you do? What are you wearing? In a voice that is always fun and encouraging, Kimberly helps you pinpoint your most important values and then gives you concrete ways to move towards transforming the ideal into the daily.

With so much of the new year chatter about slimming down or speeding up, I'm thankful to have Hip Tranquil Chick on my bedside table. For me, the most valuable parts of the book are about boldly imagining the life you want for yourself and then moving toward it, and that's advice I can stand to hear anytime of year.

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