For a night, it is possible to be somewhere else entirely. Someone else if you so wish. With a clandestine air to the evening and intrigue burning under the candlelight, the magic of the night takes over and who you were before stepping into the salon is forgotten, if only for a moment. And sometimes if you are really honest with yourself, it is behind the mask that we can finally be who we truly want to be. 

Sometimes to travel the world, you simply need to put on a classic film and imagine your favorite Italian café. For when done right, dinner and a movie is more than just something to do, it is a way to experience life in a whole new way.

Million dollar views, a trio of snacks and a filthy martini – This is the scene of my favorite bar. Exclusive, hard to get into unless you know the right people and the place everyone knows my name. 

Behind the scenes of an artist’s creative process, a masquerade brought to life with handcrafted masks, yards and yards of romantically draped fabric and a world imagined through glimpses of another time and place.

Transportive experiences – I live for a moment that feels exceptionally unique. From ‘armchair travel’, to living in between the pages of my favorite book and alongside the characters of my favorite films, I have always sought escape. Falling into daydreams and imaginative worlds has always been my favorite way to inspire my own reality. I always say that I was born in the wrong era, and while that is undoubtedly true, mostly, I find that I crave living in moments and time periods that, for me, evoke a feeling… tell a story. And through Le Supper Club, I have found a way to do exactly that, to constantly transport myself and my guests to another time, another place, another world in which we can disappear for a moment. Last year alone, I dined on moules frites at a Parisian bistro with my closest friends, hosted a small town state fair with blue ribbon winning corndogs, had cheese plates with million dollar views and immersed myself into a Home Alone frenzy where paint cans were somehow chic for Christmas – all of which came to life within the confines of my electric little apartment.

I am so very desperate for authentic connection. Evenings where phones are set aside and completely forgotten. Nights where the conversation is so captivating, discovering it is past midnight feels absolutely impossible. I crave seating arrangements that inspire the very best banter, menus that nourish the soul and laughter that echoes in my dreams for years to come. I want my dinner parties to feel like living memories, shaping the way that we immerse ourselves into these livable experiences constructed and curated out of visions and feelings that I hope to forever hold on to. A flash of authenticity in a world that feels more and more contrived and generated rather than lived. To build evenings that feel like a deep breath, a step into a new world entirely has always been the goal, but, now, more than ever, I feel as though I must dive deeper. I simply have to design worlds in which we can escape. Fully immerse. A place where dreams can live on forever and one’s imagination is set free.

As I dive further into the endearing clichés of my life, I find that I am more and more in love with the tradition of it all. Sometimes reinvention is not required. And with Valentine’s Day, it is exactly the tradition that I love so much. I crave a flurry of red and rosy hues, chocolates presented in heart shaped boxes and sweet nothings scribbled on cutesy cards. It is a day that comes prewrapped in a big pink bow and needs little more than a sweet treat and maybe a rom-com in order to celebrate. The holiday fits perfectly into my motto of making special moments for myself… a reminder to serve delivery pizza on your fine china, turn your bedroom into a five star room service moment, transform your living room into a fancy prix fixe dining experience. And for Valentine’s Day, take a moment to make it special with heart shaped touches and a little too much red and pink. Not because you are in love, but because you love yourself, you love your friends and you simply love to love. 

Christmas for me is firmly built on nostalgia and traditions. Festive season tends to look roughly the same each year. My space, illuminated with decor and elements that have continuously brought me joy through the years, a collection of bits and pieces that seemingly breathe a sense of familiar comfort and dependability to my Christmassy scene. To repeat and recycle is to create my own little world of tradition that helps to bring to life the festive season… Without a conventional family of my own with which to build the holiday, I have come to rely on decorations and intentional moments of celebration to design a world that feels truly special for myself (and my cats). Each year, an evergreen garland draped over the doorway to my breakfast nook, the same die-cut strand of Christmas cake carrying kittens strung on the bookshelves, an ever-growing eclectic collection of vintage and modern glass blown ornaments that when placed together feel as though they perfectly spell out the story of me – a Marie Antoinette cat, always front and center, kept company by a smattering of vintage Santas, baked potatoes, leopards, caviar and deviled eggs. This is my carefully designed and collected Christmas. Colorful and electric with just the right amount of vintage and homemade. This version of Christmas, in essence, is me. 

Swiss miss hot chocolate mix. Anyone who grew up in the 90’s and early 2000’s knows the unmistakable smell, taste and texture. Yes, it was hot chocolate… in a nostalgic concept of hot chocolate kind of way. But in reality, I think it was simply a wintertime right of passage wrapped in silver lined packets and always somehow just barely more than warm. Served at the Christmas tree farm, bubbling out from the giant electric silver catering carafe inside the old hay barn, it became tradition, it was comfort. And if you added enough marshmallows it could almost be decadent. It is because of these little memories, these sugary infused moments, that my love for even subpar hot chocolate began.