Book Review of "In The Spirit of Capri" By Pamela Fiori for Interiors Magazine

Written by Lilibet Snellings

From its caves with crystal blue water to its rolling hills dotted with spearmint, salmon and canary colored houses – the bougainvillea, olive groves and lemon trees creating the canvas in between – to its local people – women in skinny black slacks or relaxed linen dresses, their bronzed skin bejeweled in turquoise, coral and gold strolling through the Piazzetta alongside tall, tan men in crisp white pants, with bold, solid colored sweaters draped over their shoulders to get an after dinner limoncello – every aspect of Capri is a vibrant, colorful affair. Yet there is nothing flashy, or flaunting, about it. It is, on the contrary, the epitome of understated elegance. Like its effortlessly glamorous denizens, it doesn’t have to try to be anything, it already is.

In Pamela Fiori’s new book In The Spirit of Capri, she shares her cherished memories of the Mediterranean island (longingly reminiscing about the linguine alle vongole) while telling the history of the island itself – from the first days Roman emperors romped ashore, more than 2,000 years ago, to the glitzy, glamorous and lusty nightlife of the 40s, 50s and 60s – when Audrey Hepburn, Grace Kelly and Rita Hayworth – among many others, were dancing, drinking, tanning and romancing on the storied island’s shores. In the book, which has 150 illustrations (old paparazzi pictures, snapshots of locals, photographs of The Blue Grotto, the most famous of Capri’s many caves) Fiori, who is the editor-in-chief of Town & Country, speaks of the destination she so adores in a language which, like the island itself, is understated and graceful – there’s nothing too frilly about it: “If I could create the island of my dreams,” the opening line reads, “I could not improve on one that already exists. I mean, of course, Capri.”

Grande Non-Fat Latte, Hold The Small Talk

Why do Starbucks employees not realize that their early morning customers have not yet had their early morning coffee and are not perky and peppy and do not want to chat. We don't even want to smile. And honestly, I really wish you wouldn't either, Mr. Goooooood morning and WEL-come to Starbucks what may I get started for you today?" If I ran a Starbucks I would tell my employees that before 9 am they had to be grumpy and irritable. It's much more relatable.

(What Not) To Do List

As if the endless wonders of the world wide web aren't distraction enough, when your office is your house, or, in my case, my apartment, the everyday distractions are endless. It's amazing all the things you suddenly realize you need to do when you're supposed to be doing something else.

Maybe I should pluck my eyebrows?
Maybe I should check the mail, again.
Maybe I should water that plant, it looks a little dry, no?
Maybe I should go through the closet and see what old jeans would make good cut-offs?
Maybe I should bleach the bathtub? It's been a while, right?

Yes, that’s what I’ll do! I'll bleach the bathtub! Then, I'll have to open every window and door after bleaching the entire bathroom, determine the apartment a bio hazard, leave immediately, and seek shelter at the bar down the street, where the air is much safer and where there happens to be a very reasonable Happy Hour going on.

Genius.

"A" Royal Pain

I finally got a new Blackberry today (free of charge thanks to my much needed cell phone insurance; I might be Verizon's most expensive customer). I needed a new one, because, for the last two weeks or so the "A" key on my keyboard hasn't worked. This wouldn't be a big deal if the letter A weren't, oh I don't know, probably the most commonly used letter in the English language. The @ key used in place of "at" and the + key used in place of "and" have helped, sure, but not quite enough. And while I have to admit I sort of enjoyed trying to come up with ways to phrase things without words that have an A in them, it got old after a while. For instance, last week, I was stuck in the Atlanta Airport attempting to get back to L.A. on stand-by and was trying to explain the situation via text. Try texting someone you're stuck in the Atlanta Airport without using any A's, I dare you. This is what I came up with while riding the monorail from Concourse B to Concourse T for the third time that day:

I'm stuck in the biggest city in the st8 which is on top of Floriduh.

I could have called, of course, but that wouldn't have been any fun.

It Just Gets Funner and Funner (!!)

Ok, ok, ok, fine, it's true, they are getting exercise, and that's a good thing -- sure -- with American children getting/being so fat and all. It could be worse, yes. They could be inside Twittering or something I suppose. I just wish they didn't SCREAM every time they bounced. You would think the thrill would have worn off by now. It's as if they have the memory of a goldfish (30 seconds or so, they say). Every trip around the bowl is a new adventure. Weeeeee!

Double Bounce

My next door neighbors got a trampoline today (how they fit that thing in their "yard" I do not know) and I don't think I will ever get any work done from home again. At least not until school starts. After three straight hours of bouncing -- and screaming -- these little hellions (and what sounds like the rest of the neighborhood under the age of 11) are still going strong. The trampoline is directly below my window. I really wish I had some water balloons. Or a BB gun.

Tomorrow is my grandparents' 62nd wedding anniversary. Or, it would have been. He died a week ago today, at the age of 92. During this past week, as my Mimi and I sat, side by side, and laughed and cried, she told me all sorts of stories about their long and happy marriage. This, is one of my new favorites:

We were driving back from Columbus, Georgia on one of those real country roads, you know Pop never liked to take the main roads, and we passed a building, a factory type building, and I said, "Oh, that's where they can Osage Peaches," and he said, "No, that's where they can Osage Pimentos." And oh, we argued and argued about it for the next three or four miles until finally he said, "Goddamnit Betty, I'm going to turn this car around and show you." So we flipped around and went back and on one side of the building it said Osage Peaches and on the other side of the building it said Osage Pimentos. Oh we laughed and laughed! If only every argument could be settled so amicably.