Life on the farm: Dizzy and Eartha

You may really think I've lost it now. I mean the chickens, horses, pigs, donkeys, and sheep are one thing. And let's not forget Ginger, the most photogenic dog there ever was. But dedicating a whole post to my cats?!? I don't think so.

The truth is - I've been holding this post for a while. Every time I would think of bringing it to life, I would tell myself, "Amanda, you cannot do a whole post on your cats." But then something unexpected happened that gave me the impetus to do so. Last weekend I woke up on Sunday morning to Dizzy sitting in the windowsill staring out at the garden. The light was soft and pretty, in contrast to Dizzy's jet black fur, and I was moved to reach over to my bedside table, grab my phone, and take a picture to post on Instagram. That afternoon there were some comments telling me how "Prada" my posting was. It turns out that the Prada set for their show in Milan last week was all about a cat sitting in a window. So I figure now is my chance - while cats are having a fashion relevant moment - to share with you these pictures of my beloved cats who make me laugh out loud, entertain me, keep me warm, and are aesthetically pleasing all at the same time. Now that's style!

This is the first picture I took of Eartha. She was 8 weeks old and was a present to my son on his 9th birthday. Trouble was, when I went to pick her up I also met her brothers and sisters who were mostly black and white. There was one last boy - all black just like Eartha - that hadn't been adopted. We purposely wanted to rescue black cats because it is hard to find homes for them - most people are superstitious. We were so happy to have Eartha, but I couldn't stop thinking about her brother that we left behind.

Two days later, Eartha's brother Dizzy joined our farm family. 

This is the last time Eartha and Dizzy were roughly the same size.  Very soon he became larger boned than she is, and also grew a big round belly. 

Eartha seemed happy during her two days as an only child, but she just beamed when she was reunited with Dizzy. They wrestle and fight violently like most brothers and sisters, but they also really love each other. And I mean really love - as in good thing they got spayed and neutered.

Dizzy quickly figured out how to get some extra dinner in his belly.

Spooning siblings.

There was a period when it was obvious the cats were dying to go outside, but we had to wait until they got their shots. They would go wild around the house, climbing and clawing on everything, including the curtains. If they were indoor cats they would have destroyed the house in no time. 

Keeping me company in my office while I work.

The first time we let the cats outside they hid in the bushes for hours.

It wasn't long though before Dizzy found more ways to stuff his belly.

Even as they get bigger they still sleep cuddled up at night. I hope they always do. 

Eartha getting cozy.

They stole Ginger's food, Ginger's peace and quiet in the house, much of Ginger's attention, and finally Ginger's bed. She loves them though.

Finally a legitimate place to climb.

Bickering.

At first the cats didn't know what to do with the snow and mostly stayed inside. Slowly, they explored, and eventually got really into it.

Eartha, carefully navigating the slippery snow.

Dizzy, doing his best impression of a pear tree.

Dizzy's Prada moment.

Skiing in Samoens

Just got back from a skiing holiday in the French Alps. It was so great. I was weighing whether or not to go because it meant missing London Fashion Week. But then I realised that I have no real reason to be at fashion shows right now, and I don't have forever to take my son skiing on his half term break. So the decision was easy.

I wasn't sure what to expect from the French Alps. I've been skiing in the Swiss Alps before, and it was pretty much what you would imagine - very charming, lots of chalets with red and white checked tablecloths, and floral motifs everywhere. And actually, the French Alps weren't much different, although I'm sure the French would be none to pleased to hear that. But I mean it in a good way.

The skiing was fantastic - it takes you a while to get all the way up the mountain, but once you do you can ski for an hour without having to go up again. And by the mountain I actually mean four separate peaks clustered together. There are so many directions to go in you could almost ski for a week without doing the same run twice. My favorite part was skiing into different villages, depending on which run we chose to take at the end of the day. Thank god we had a friend who wasn't skiing because of an injury, so he would come pick us up from whichever town we ended up in.

And I just loved the slightly kitschy Alpine style as interpreted by the French. Handpainted flowers, old rustic barns, big wooden chalets with gingerbread trim and heart shape cutouts. Anywhere else, it would be cheese-y, but somehow its done here with a sincerity and authenticity that makes it chic. Just don't try it at home.

I love skiing photos because, for the most part, they are timeless. But I love the modern addition of colour on the slopes, even if I myself ski in head to toe black.

This is Samouens, the town we stayed in. It was my kind of ski town, everything you need - a bakery, a pizzeria, a ski shop, a pharmacy, a newsstand - and nothing that you don't - fancy people, crowded restaurants, and fashion boutiques.

Our daily mid-morning snack - a palmier and chocolat chaud with chantilly on top. Since getting home I've had to put myself on a sugar fast!

There is nothing Zach loves more than snow. Our first night in Samouens it snowed over a foot, and Zach was the first one out the door the next morning to enjoy it.

I love this mailbox at the house where we were staying, but you could only have it in the Alps. It would be way to kitsch anywhere else, but here it's perfect.

Arriving at the top of the télécabine, I never can get over the stunning beauty of the Alps seen for miles and miles in every direction.

I never have been nor ever will be as chic as my friend Trinny on the slopes, with her prefect balance of practicality and retro-chic.

Sledding was hysterical in France. We thought we were all clever getting sleds that had brakes and steering, but I have never felt so out of control in my life. Seconds after this shot, I crashed. Badly.

I loved all the signage in the area of France we were in. It was kitsch, clever, creative and amusing.

Being an 9 year old boy, all Zach wanted to do was ski in and out of the trees like we were on an obstacle course. It was a lot of fun until he fell into a giant ditch while I was taking this photo!

Each day we skiied down the mountain into a different town. Morillion was a very basic town, but not without its own particular french charm.

A shop sign in Morillon.

A local outdoors guide, Agneska, came over in the afternoons to show us how to build an igloo. Here we are just getting started.

Trinny, working on the igloo from the inside. 

It took 7 adults and 4 children two (apres-ski) afternoons to get this done, but we were all so proud when it was finally finished. If you want to get great exercise, build an igloo!

More color on the slopes.

I love the simplicity of this French cotton candy stand just outside the village ice-skating rink.

This sign freaked me out. I'm not used to worrying about falling into a crevasse while skiing.

This sun shining through the trees on the mountain.

I just loved this Chalet. The decoration was beyond cutesy, but in the Alpine setting it somehow just works.

I am always a sucker for symmetry.

I've never seen a decorated wood pile before. Nor would I want to in any other place. But I love it here.

A gloomy-chic chalet in the woods.

The mountains surrounded us in this park in the shape of a horseshoe. In the summer you can see 28 waterfalls from this spot. Of course they were all frozen when we were there, but we did see a mini-avalanche. The noise it made was incredible, even on such a small scale.

We went exploring one afternoon and found this humble and rustic town that I just fell in love with. 

I love the barn/chalet combo. Everything in this town was old, and there wasn't one shop to be seen anywhere.

There must have been 7 different kinds and styles of wood on this barn. It was even more beautiful in person.

Me and my sweetheart.

Our last run on our last day. Heaven.

Back in fashion

Hi there. Back from skiing - will post about it on Monday. In the meantime, here is my first article for the Wall Street Journal OFF DUTY section. I have been a fan of OFF DUTY for quite a while, and I am so excited to have the chance to dip my toes back in fashion by writing for them. Let me know what you think.

My Style: My monogrammed jeans

While everyone is talking about monograms, I thought I'd show you my favourite personalized piece - my jeans. Yes, that's right - I have monogrammed jeans. When I was writing I Love Your Style in 2007, I wanted to include a section on monograms in my Classic chapter. I was trying to think of an unconventional way to wear one, and so I went to see my friend Eleanor Lembo, who worked at Earnest Sewn at the time, and asked if there was any way they'd sew my initials on the back right pocket of my jeans for me. "No problem, we'd love to," she replied. So some inspiration went back and forth, and when we agreed on a design, it was sewn on the back pocket and sent to me the next day. I still wear them all the time, and I've never seen anyone else with the same pair.

Can you believe my monogram is ABC?!?