The STUFF Sisters

Alignment

I did not have the best day on Friday. Nothing bad happened directly to me. I just never caught my breath or reached my stride. I did not accomplish what I set out to do, and, by the time I got home, I was wiped out from too much discombobulation to my life that day. All visions of what my day was to have been when I started it were blurry and tattered. I was so emotionally tired that, for the first time in years, I had a “come apart”. (I picked this phrase up from my friend Karen Townsend years ago, and it just hit home as a great pairing of words.)

The incredible thing about my low point last evening was that, right before I let the tears fly at the kitchen table, I received a “just catching up with you” call from my best friend. She was making sure I had made it through the week and that all was well. Remarkably, however, within an hour of of drying my tears, I received two more calls from cherished women in my life who were also just making sure I was OK – one to ask me to lunch next week and the other to see about drinks yet that night. These women do not really know each other and definitely do not know each other’s phone numbers. Therefore, this wasn’t a planned circling of the wagons – this was some form of karmic, one-day-past-the-full-moon intervention.

Earlier this past week, I was part of a circling of the wagons as my mother endured another breast cancer surgery. So really, in contrast to her week, I had very little to be tired of or fed-up about. I wasn’t still flushing anesthesia and pain killers out of my systems, and I wasn’t dealing with the loss of any body parts and their cancer cells. I think I was just done with that one day.

Now I’m better. Actually, I was better as soon as I stopped sobbing and wiped the tears with a dish towel. Once I released all my pent-up crap into the ether, I felt a great weight lift, and I moved right on through my night with my husband and son.

I’m thinking what I experienced was an alignment that was buffered delicately by three women who just knew something was wrong in the universe. They set out to make it right.

Cathy, Brigid and Missy, I’m all right now. Really.

Sloane

Horn Tooting

I haven’t always worked in retail. It is really, in business jargon, my second career. A career that I love, warts and all.

Previous to this stellar gig and after a short college career, I worked for a small advertising agency for two years, and then I was a political consultant for 13 years. Each of these jobs was full of horn tooting for my clients – media releases, television interviews, radio advertising. I honed my skills for getting to the root of the issue/cause and sharing that with the world. Please remember, STUFF has been in business 14 years, so the work I did in those businesses was before the advent of the Internet, Facebook and Twitter. Actually, while at the advertising job, I remember vividly when they purchased their first computer and moved the IBM Selectric III typewriters to the edge of the desks. Heck, right before that, the whole world sped up with the advent of the fax machine. Yep. I’m that old.

So it was with a rather experienced hand that Casey and I began the job of sharing with the world STUFF’s achievements. At times, I struggle with it, because I’d much rather talk about the artists we represent than the business directly. I’d rather talk about artistic processes than award nominations.

This week, we learned that STUFF was nominated for an award at the Dallas Market Center and that we were placed in the top 10 – those being the lucky few to move forward in the award process. I had had an inkling this was coming, because I had received a phone call from a marketing person in Dallas to ask me some “follow-up questions regarding our submission”, and I was struck dumb for a few moments because we didn’t nominate ourselves and had never seen a submission. We had been nominated by a sales representative for a company whose work we carry, and she had pushed our name into their sights because she was amazed by how much STUFF has given to charities in Kansas City. The award she nominated us for is titled “The Next Big Give” and is about small retail stores being involved in their own communities.

She’s right. We were a good fit for this award, and we are honored to have made the top 10. STUFF has a firm commitment to the neighborhood our business resides in, a passion for the city of Kansas City, and a dedication to the not-for-profit institutions that make this city tick and are central to its health. In the past year, we have sponsored events in our store and been involved with events for over 50 local schools and charities. In addition to that financial involvement, Casey and I have been directly involved with fundraising committees and are serving on the board of directors for six local institutions to help those organizations continue to flourish. STUFF also has developed a line of clothing and hats that celebrate the Brookside neighborhood, and a portion of every sale of those items goes to fund more benches and bike racks in Brookside.

Winning an award would be sweet. Winning an award in Dallas would be nice. But the number one thing that’s important to us is giving back to our community and knowing that we are part of the solutions for our city. When governments and their citizens experience financial crisis, basic human needs are usually the first to suffer – health care, education, safe transportation. When we opened our doors 14 years ago, our country wasn’t in a financial recession but we knew that civic involvement would be central to our mission. You can’t spend every working hour building a business based on representing local artists and turn your back on the communities that they, your business (and you!) reside in.

The response to our core mission from the people who shop at our store continues to humble us. They believe as solidly as we do in doing what you can locally to see a change globally. The community is our business. STUFF has made sure to be involved with institutions and organizations that not only meet a set of criteria but that also embrace our mission. We’ve made sure that our helping them is a good fit all around.

In our world, it really isn’t about the win — it’s about being in the game, celebrating a good time, and having good sportsmanship.

There. I tooted our horn.

Sloane

Into the Wild

This morning we had a mag-a-lanche in our office. The pile of magazines I keep stacked next to my desk slid over and made it impossible for us to get in and out of our office. Something had to be done.

My sister, Sloane, and I share magazines. The mags she passes to me are often sprinkled with post-its that point out “don’t miss” finds or interesting articles. I do the same to her in reverse. As I worked my way through the pile this morning – digging my way out of our office – I peeked at a few tempting stickies popping out.

This treasure was marked in a Veranda issue from months ago. This gecko bracelet by Chopard’s is going on my “must have one day” list immediately. It makes me wish I was dating a fantastically romantic guy who was smart, witty, responsible and fabulously rich so I could I slip this hint into his dresser drawer for Valentine’s Day.

Maybe next year?

Casey

Books by Color

I am in desperate need of bookshelves. My daughter and I have stacks of books everywhere. You can’t pass through the house with your arms full because you are guaranteed to fall over a stack of books. (Of course, if you did, you would at least have something to read while you waited for the ambulance.)

I have been searching for bookshelves I like AND can afford. This is the real challenge, since I have very expensive taste. I came across these images of color sorted bookshelves and love them.

I like the objects and CDs…looks like a “real” house – by Hinke

“Wow factor” is off-the-charts – by Chota



Artist Chris Cobb and helpers reshelved all the books in the San Francisco shop Adobe Books according to color for his work “There is Nothing Wrong in this Whole Wide World”. Shop by color? Hmmm.

Maybe I could start by color sorting the piles in my house?

Casey

The F-Bomb

I wrote a blog a couple days ago and I dropped the f-bomb. So, to clear things up I wanted to say…

Yes, I dropped the f-bomb.
Yes, I will drop the f-bomb again very soon.

My mother always told me there are no “bad” words, just powerful words.

Thanks Mom.

Casey

Resolutions

The first few days of each New Year, I always look for “signs” about my upcoming year. I can’t help myself. Everyone is talking about resolutions and renewed commitments. I tend to wait for a message that will set the tone for my year, something to hold in my tight little fist. Some magic words that I can latch my hopes to for the year.

This past Sunday, while my family and I were ringing in the New Year at Bo Ling’s and I was acting on a renewed commitment to MY Sunday ritual of Chinese dim sum with my daughter, I was thrilled to be given my annual copy of the official Bo Ling’s wall calendar. This isn’t your typical insurance agent calendar giveaway you see; it has the Chinese zodiac predictions for the year.

I ran right home and flipped to the fortunes for my birth year and immediately bust into laughter and said to myself, “See what you get for trying to dick-around with the future?…serves you right. How many times do you have to be told to ‘live in the moment’, Casey? Really, how many fucking times?”

I vow to not search for signs.

I vow to not be cursed by predictions.

I vow to eat the dumplings and leave the fortune cookies on the table.

These are my resolutions for 2011.

Casey

Out With the Old

Two weeks before Christmas, the TV refused to turn on. And, yes, I consulted our in-house computer and electronics guru and, after testing all the connections – the plug, the wall outlet, the remote, the batteries, the video connections and the power strip – his official pronouncement was, “It’s dead.”

Why do appliances break at the holidays? Why does the dishwasher flood and then cease to work the day before the Thanksgiving meal you are serving for 20? Why does the guest bathroom faucet seize up just days before a house full of overnight guests? Is is karma? Is it Murphy’s law? Or is it secretly-implanted switches that the plumbers and dishwasher repairmen install? Switches only they can see. High quality ones from the CIA.

We have one TV in our house. It is exactly the way we like it: safely ensconced in its Arts & Crafts cabinet holding down the west side of the living room. When it’s not turned on, nice and solid cherry doors cover the hideousness that all TVs inherently carry in their gene pool. And the spaciousness that is provided in front of the cabinet makes for the Wii bowling alley and the Super Mario Cart race track.

So, when the TV died we had to replace it – although I spent a few days truly pondering life without and was happy for those few moments. But then I remembered that Mad Men on Netflix had made us very happy recently, much as Blues Clues on Nickelodeon had made the youngest amoung us wide-eyed 10 years ago.

I guess I really can’t complain. The old TV had been with us for 23 or 24 years. We purchased it either right after our wedding with what probably seemed like a huge pile of cash or as a gift to each other on our first anniversary. Whenever it was, the old mother had gotten larger and heavier since we moved into this house after she took up residence in said cabinet. It was a trip to carry her out of the house, with my husband and me bitching and groaning. After a long day in retail in December, the last thing you want to see in the living room is a huge hunk of petrified plastic and glass waiting to find its place in electronics heaven. (To be honest with you, I don’t know how my husband got it from the cabinet to the end table by himself. Maybe he didn’t, because we haven’t rushed to the emergency room for a hernia flare up.)

Either the “breakdown timing switch” in this old sucker – the CIA worked with Sony, RCA and Zenith on this technology in the 60s – was never flipped on, or we were lucky and Murphy was on our side this time. I go with the lucky scenario. I was even luckier because, in the last 24 years, TVs have gotten considerably lighter, and my husband was able to hunt, gather and install the flat screen replacement all by himself while I was at work. Just in time for Santa to bring us Beatle’s Rock Band.

Sloane

PS…You can’t hide the ugliness of Rock Band behind beautifully designed cabinetry. But you gotta love Santa for the almost well designed, faux leather, Rock Band branded storage ottoman. But I digress.

Peace on Earth

I have been wrestling with the issue of peace for over two weeks. Quietly and to myself in the few minutes of alone time I carved out of a rich and full life. At first I was troubled that I wasn’t doing enough to help find answers for the world at large as to why we don’t have peace that lasts in places that need it so desperately. This impulse to do more was brought to me by my inability to disregard the media. That same week, I listened to an article on KCUR about children in the Middle East – I truly forget what country and hate to lump them all together – where the children were talking about the ridicule they face on their walks to school and at school for having faith beliefs different from their peers and neighbors. Then I read an article online about Rush Limbaugh’s vitriolic “feelings” about Hillary Clinton’s beauty and power as is pertains to her job as Secretary of State, and then my head exploded.

I was not at peace in my soul.

I had an epiphany several years ago when I realized – possibly for the first time – that Casey and I were the “bosses” and no one was “workin’ for the man” any more – and never had been – at stuff. This whole small business ownership thing had put us in charge. We were the parents, the bosses, the leaders. No one was going to enter our lives anymore and tell us what to do. And for one fleeting moment I was scared. I knew I had been in a co-driver’s seat for a while, but the true meaning hit me hard that day. No longer would a parent of mine walk into the room I was playing in – while arguing with a sibling – and say, “That’s enough! Clean up this mess and be nice to each other right now.” And then to have us do so.

I wish to be Pollyanna-ish for one more moment and say that that’s what I wish we had in the world right now: someone we all listened to – and were maybe a wee bit scared of – that walked onto the world stage and said, “It’s time for you all to get along and find a way to play together. You’re locked into a long term relationship with each other – and this planet! – and you must find a way to separate church from state and find peace. And I mean right now!”

Just when I think the media is around to make me crazy and cause me to think too much, I read an article in National Geographic last night and felt peace jump out at me from the whooper swan you see here.

I gazed at this photo in silence and told myself that I will be finding more time in 2011 to continue working on causes and issues involving basic human rights, civil rights and financial empowerment for women and families. I will be one of those voices that says, “I’m a peacemaker, and I am at peace.”

Sloane

Quirks & All

It is finally Christmas Eve, and we are snuggled in at Sloane’s home. We closed the store at 5:00 today, and the last two gifts we sold were to two different young men for their grandmothers. The day was filled with quirks and lots of laughter. We had to drop one of the cash drawers on the floor from three feet to get it to open…. A customer had to tell Casey what an item number was after Sloane had told her three times…. The Minsky’s pizza guy told us he would miss us next week while we are away from the store…. And, yes, we popped a bottle of champagne at 12:30 to share a mimosa toast with our shoppers – which may explain some of the quirks.

Now we are having a sing-along of holiday songs led by a 5-year-old in red polkadot PJs while a 13-year-old performs a “light show” with lit LED balls on strings…. early presents very well received.

We wish you a very merry Christmas… quirks and all.

casey & sloane simmons
sisters & co-owners

Big Yellow Bus

On Thanksgiving my daughter made me this drawing.

It makes me happy.

Casey