I have a long standing love / hate relationship with Martha Stewart. This is by no means a personal contact type of relationship- we haven’t sneered at each other from across a restaurant as our girlfriends back us up with witty and evil repartee, I never tripped her in a hallway or put a laxative in her coffee while smiling brightly saying “what a great idea Martha!” This is all on me – she has no idea who I am.
From the day I found out who Martha was about 15 years ago I have harbored this deep seeded form of competitive dislike for the woman. She is perky, she has these insanely great ideas that when you watch her, or see them in the glossy page print of one of her countless magazines or books you think, “DANG IT - I COULD HAVE COME UP WITH THAT!” Even though you didn’t…”Martha” did.
The gist is, the bitch does everything right – perfectly in fact. Her slightly accented and poised voice telling you how (insert a typical Martha-esque lock jaw here) to do things HER way… the ‘look down her nose’ way she tells you, the viewer or reader (this is possible if you are Martha- to look down your nose at someone in print) and pretends to surreptitiously share her secret to making the perfect mid week goat cheese soufflé. Or how to actually tie greens during the holidays so they don’t come apart every third day and die a needley death on your floor in front of astonished and flabbergasted guests… or how to make scones using the eggs from your own chickens that you get up at 5 am to get in order to have these warm steamy sugary treats on the table before your first family member even stops dreaming of sleeping more – I say this and we HAVE chickens- and it still makes me nuts. Anyway, you name it- she has always just irked me.
I come from a mother who is uber-crafty. I mean REALLY crafty - crafty to the point where, if she and Martha were to go head to head back in the day it would have been a toss up who would have come out on top- My mom was WAY more realistic though, which may have done her in (that and she never publically tried to be crafty- she just WAS / Is).
So - What i am trying to say is that I have a serious history of do-it-yourself in me : decorating, cooking, creative brainstorming… you name it- which is actually the main reason I became an event planner, darn it - to single handedly make parties prettier one glitter dipped and preserved Hydrangea Macrophylla at a time. I mean come on Martha- BRING it.
So it is with a heavy heart and head hung low that I write this post. Because, dear friend (to the one reader I may realistically have - which oddly makes admitting this so much easier) I am here to admit the unthinkable. The personal travesty of my creative lifetime - I secretly LOVE Martha.
Okay, in the recent months I have been coming to terms with this on my own. Enough inner personal therapy and little voices that say to me – it’s O.K. to like the woman (Note: and her staff because we all KNOW that they are the ones who actually DO all of the work and sourcing and creative brainstorming and I KNOW she just signs off on these insanely fabulous ideas that her “peeps’ snake from unsuspecting crafters nationwide).
I have reached this decision after moths of tribulation- infighting with my inner demon and angel who say at the super market check out line as I quickly thumb through each issue of Living hoping that no one sees me – “go ahead – BUY it- ooooh – look at THAT – a hand tied garland of paper flowers with ribbon leaves and stems! How great!!!” And the demon who on the other shoulder says “put it back Pippa- enough is enough, you don’t need her ideas – you have your own… nothing good can come of putting that in your cart!”
99.9999% of the time the angel wins- and curiosity gets the best of me. And until recently- I would bring these magazines or books home…and hide them. Under other magazines, in amongst the throngs of cookbooks I already own… anywhere but out in the open where I would have to admit that she was right, that she rocks, that I read her, and / or pay attention to her… I’ll be damned if I let THAT woman get the best of me.
Well, you’ve won Martha- I am officially, and publicly out of the closet …I dig your stuff. I have reached this decision through many months of trial and, frustratingly, no error. Attempting countless recipes that all infuriatingly WORK perfectly (including this year’s Christmas cookies, and the damn popovers that I made the other night from this month’s issue that despite being pretty much the same recipe I have used for years rose sky high and more beautifully than ANY I have made before – URGH!) . After realizing that I don’t just ogle your do-it-yourself crafts from the safety of the checkout lane - but have actually been doing them. After I find myself sitting in the Michael’s craft store parking lot going over my list of Martha products to pick up and then standing in the aisle drooling over the snowflake hole punch that no one in their right mind ever should own as at $19.99 a pop it is a frivolous expense– but I do. You win. I use your recipes, I do your crafts and love the results… and I could cry. Of course on the contrary, if you ever decide to retire and would like someone to take over the business- call me – I’m available.
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