She’s nurturing tinsel-tinged dreams of I’m-my-own-boss pastures. Help her play the part of entrepreneur, or at least support locals who’re working it.
The smell of paper makes her swoon; if only she’d thought of Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters first. She can resurrect the art of letter writing with correspondence sets by Yellow Owl Workshop (we like the camp theme best). Procrastinators will have no more excuses when presented with a pen designed for NASA that works underwater and upside down. Literary lovers not blessed with poetic gifts can play the part wearing letterpress and fountain pen nib necklaces.
She’ll go gaga over the anonymous photographs from Snaps Boutique and dig wearable art like the turban/baseball cap hybrid by local milliner Victor Osborne and Alexander Calder-like necklace by Samma. She knows to keep playing cards by artist Tauba Auerbach (get them at No. 8b) in the wrapping (they’ll go for more at auction that way), won’t bother mussing up Charlotte Pinson’s hand-painted plates (at Albertine) with food stains, and will love 25 colored pencils sent to her door every month for twenty months.
DIY lovers need Anni Albers’s necklace kits based on her 1940s design or a headband workshop at M&J Trimming. Girls with two left thumbs deserve the prefab variety by It’s Ok My Dear or a custom dress from Sir by Joanna Baum (only $25 more than an off-the-rack style).
She dreams of owning a bakery, but the long hours are a drag. Let her lick the pages of this food-porny ode to macarons (recipes included) or wear a flirty apron to distract from the flour streaks in her hair. Be a prince and deliver a 3-D castle Bundt pan — then display the fruits of her labor on Knack cake stands from Pink Olive. (Or she can just pile them with custom cookies. So sweet).
Santa, baby, still forgetting one little thing? Check out ShopTalk for digital Rubik’s Cubes, studded ballet slippers, handcrafted calendars, and more gift ideas for gals.
Photos: Courtesy of Erica Weiner; Courtesy of Snaps Boutique; Courtesy of It’s Ok My Dear; Courtesy of Fred Flare