DENUDED LAWNS

2006-11-29T13:30:00.000-08:00

All the lawns in our neighborhood (except ours) have now been blown completely clean, not a stray leaf anywhere in sight. I can't help associating this with the Brazilian waxing trend. Since when did leaves and hair become so undesireable -- and more to the point, since when did we start feeling as if we had to hire people to shear our fields? When I was a girl.....

Okay, okay, so I sound like an old lady. But really, when I was a girl, and even when I was a grownup woman, you raked what leaves you could to the curb and didn't worry about plucking out every stray stuck in the pachysandra or huddling beneath the rhododendron. And you didn't spend money grooming hair that almost nobody was ever going to see.

Two of the things I like most about winter:

No leafblowers.

No leg-shaving.

ARE YOU A SUBURBANISTA?

2006-04-07T12:06:00.000-07:00

I invented the term Suburbanistas as the title for my new novel, but the concept has been with us since fashionistas started having babies and attempting to move to the suburbs without sacrificing their sense of style.

Suburbanistaism is cool of a leafy, heavily-mortgaged variety, extending far beyond designer labels to embrace home decorating, consumer spending, career choices, mothering behavior, exercise habits, short-range choices and long-term goals. Just as in the fashion world, you’re either in (as Heidi Klum says on Project Runway) or you’re out, in the suburbs you’re either a Suburbanista or you’re – well, you’re a mom from New Jersey.

There is a world of difference between the Suburbanista and the old-fashioned suburbanite as depicted by Cheever and Updike. Suburbanistas don’t drink martinis, for one thing, limiting themselves to a little prosecco (this year’s pinot noir) in the garden with the book club. And they don’t have affairs, being too besotted with their children to have much sexual energy left for their husbands, much less the hunky guy who prunes the dogwoods.

How can you spot a genuine Suburbanista? While the Suburbanista drives a family-friendly car, it’s likely to be black or silver instead of dowdy suburban beige. Her standard-issue center hall colonial features cool mid-century furniture and real art on the walls. And while Suburbanistas may no longer be slithering into size 2 Narcisos, they like to stay fit, doing yoga and tennis and kickboxing, walking with friends and lifting weights with a trainer. You won’t catch a Suburbanista eating chips while watching “The Biggest Loser,” or at least not admitting to it.

The Suburbanista rarely admits to any marital, sexual, childrearing, psychological, or – most disagreeable of all -- money troubles, even if paying the mortgage amounts to a monthly victory. Though Suburbanistas can’t afford to put much aside for emergencies or retirement or the kids’ college, much less give any money away to charities or embarrassingly needy relatives, they do invest in home improvements. Central air, Viking stoves, and pie-sized showerheads are essential to high resale value – and selling the house is how they plan to finance their kids’ college educations, their retirement, and their eventual escape from the suburbs.

Are you a Suburbanista? Could you become one? Take this quiz and find out.

1. When you run down to Whole Foods to restock your supply of Sea Salt Soy Crisps and blackberry-mango sorbet, what do you drive?

a. My Mercedes G5 series or Ferrari, in case I encounter someone I need to impress.
b. My mini-van, in case I encounter someone I need to carpool.
c. My Volvo wagon, in case I have to assert my good taste and healthy bank account while pretending I chose this car only because of its safety record.
d. My 13-year-old Honda sedan with the dented door and the missing hubcaps, in case I have to park in an employees-only space.
e. Uh, what’s Whole Foods?

2. Once the kids leave for school in the morning, you:

a. Head to the nearest luxury mall.
b. Wax the kitchen floor and throw a meatloaf in the oven.
c. Fire off my daily email to my children’s teachers and principal, followed by a little landscape architecture and a Goddess Within workshop.
d. Roll a spliff and tune in to The View.
e. Kids? I’m too busy extending my own childhood.

3.What’s your marriage like?

a. He makes lots of money, I spend it, and we get together for our children’s birthday parties.
b. He makes a little bit of money, I try not to spend it, and we get together for dinner every night.
c. We pretend to be equal partners and best friends, but we haven’t had sex in four months.
d. We’re not actually married but, shhhhh, don’t tell the kids.
e. We’re not actually married but, shhhhh, don’t tell our parents.

4. Complete this sentence: The best thing about living in the suburbs is:

a. You get to be rich without having to be interesting.
b. You get to be middle-aged, dowdy, and fat without feeling self-conscious.
c. You get to have a big beautiful house with a backyard for the kids and marble countertops for less than the price of a two-bedroom apartment in the city.
d. You get to blast your Bon Jovi CD without the neighbors banging on the walls.
e. You get to grow up and move to the city.

5.Party time! How are you most likely to boogie down?

a. A full bar and passed hors d’oeuvres for anyone who might add to our net worth.
b. Pot luck with the other parents from the kids’ soccer team.
c. A dinner party for eight that takes three full days to prepare, costs $500,
and leaves me feeling suicidal the next morning.
d. Send the kids out to play, lock the door behind them, and get naked.
e. Late dinner at a cool restaurant, dancing at a cooler club, then go straight to work in the morning.

6. Come on, baby, tell us what we really want to know: How much money do you have?

a. Counting the jewelry and the account in the Caymans, enough to get through the next two centuries.
b. Counting the retirement accounts and the kids’ college savings, enough to get through the next two months.
c. Counting the equity in the house, enough to get through the next two days.
d. Counting the Honda, enough to retire.
e. Counting my next paycheck, enough to pay the minimum balance on my credit cards.

7. Speaking of retirement, what are you going to do once the Suburbanista phase is over?

a. Get divorced, get plastic surgery, and start again.
b. I’m going to stay here long enough to force my kids to be the ones to clean out the basement.
c. I’m moving back to the city as soon as I can. Though since when did everybody get so young there?
d. I’m going with tradition and moving to a mobile home in Florida.
e. Over? I’m still resisting this whole Suburbanista thing.

KEY

If you answered mostly a’s –
YOU’RE A HOLLYWOOD SUBURBANISTA. Hollywood may portray upscale families like yours as Suburbanista, but you’re really above the whole heavily-mortgaged fray.

If you answered mostly b’s –
YOU’RE A SUBURBANITE, NOT A SUBURBANISTA. You’re a suburban-dweller in the style of our parents, clueless about the new Suburbanista ways. Square, sure, but you’re probably more relaxed than an entire yoga studio full of Suburbanistas.

If you answered mostly c’s –
YES, YOU ARE A SUBURBANISTA! You’re trying to bring your sophisticated brand of city style to your suburban life, applying your fashionista tendencies to everything from your home to your car to your kid. All we can say is – good luck!

If you answered mostly d’s –
YOU ARE THE ANTI-SUBURBANISTA. You may live in the suburbs, but you’re neither Suburbanista or suburbanite. Both too downscale and too unconventional, you just don’t care.

If you answered mostly e’s –
YOU ARE AN URBANISTA. You’re too young to be a Suburbanista – or at least you’re pretending to be. If you haven’t escaped the suburban town where you grew up to move to the city, you wish you could. And if you swear you’ll never go back and turn into a Suburbanista…..check in with us in ten years.

SUBURBANISTAS

DENUDED LAWNS

ARE YOU A SUBURBANISTA?