There’s a moment when Kate Winslet’s character finally sees the relationship she’s been desperately trying to make work for what it is—her realization that she’s been trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. She’s been forcing something to fit simply because she wanted it to. And lately, I cannot stop thinking about that.

Maybe it’s because summer is coming to an end. Maybe it’s because my birthday is right around the corner. Or maybe I’m simply at one of those points in life where I have the urge to get everything into its respective place. Clear the proverbial drawers. Take inventory. Make some room.

I’ve been thinking about this next season as an upleveling in all categories.

Not necessarily bigger. Not more for the sake of more.

Just closer.

Closer to the work I want to be doing. The people I want to be around. The places I want to see. The way I want my days to feel.

There is something about a birthday that always makes me take stock. Not in a where should I be by now? way, but in a look how far I’ve come—and where do I want to go next? way.

It’s an opportunity to simply observe the progress. Assess the dreams. Be wildly grateful for what exists right now while still asking:

Okay, how are we going to make the next thing happen?

And sometimes, apparently, the answer is to stop trying so hard.

The trip that didn’t want to happen

For a while now, I had South Tyrol in my head.

I could picture it. I wanted the mountains. The hotels. The long walks. The whole thing.

And I LOVE planning a trip.

The research is half the fun for me. The endless tabs. The saved places. The tiny restaurant in the middle of nowhere that somehow becomes the entire reason for going. I will happily disappear down that rabbit hole.

Except this time, it wasn’t fun.

Every single part of planning South Tyrol felt difficult.

The accommodations weren’t quite working. Transfers were complicated. Dates weren’t lining up. Every time I solved one thing, another little obstacle appeared.

And I kept going.

Because I had decided this was the trip.

Square peg. Round hole.

Eventually, I stopped.

I gave myself a little space from it and realized something incredibly simple:

Maybe it’s just not time for South Tyrol. That’s not a never. It’s just a not now.

And I think there is an enormous difference between the two.

Meanwhile, Santa Fe had been quietly pulling at me for quite some time, and I had mostly been ignoring it.

Then one night I woke up in the middle of the night with this incredibly clear thought:

Book Santa Fe.

Nothing particularly dramatic. I just decided that when I woke up, I would look at flights and see.

Well.

I don’t know if I’ve ever had a trip come together faster.

Flights. Done.

Place to stay. Done.

Plans started falling into place.

Instead of trying to wrestle the experience into existence, I felt like I was following it.

A note on effort

I don’t believe that everything meant for us arrives without effort.

Some of the things I am most proud of have required an enormous amount of work, patience, persistence, rejection, rerouting and trying again.

So I don’t think the lesson is if it’s hard, it’s wrong.

I think it’s learning to recognize the particular feeling of forcing.

There’s effort that expands you.

And then there’s effort that has you gripping something so tightly because you’ve already decided exactly how it’s supposed to look.

The latter is what I’m learning to notice.

When I’m white-knuckling something—a plan, an outcome, an opportunity, even sometimes a relationship—I have started asking:

Am I working toward this because it feels deeply right, or am I working this hard because I’m trying to make it right?

Oof.

As I head into another year, I think that’s what I want more of.

Not necessarily better control over my life.

Better discernment.

Knowing what deserves persistence and what deserves release.

Knowing when to knock on the door again and when to notice the other one that’s been wide open the entire time.

Knowing that changing your mind isn’t failure.

That not now doesn’t mean never.

That the dream can stay on the list without needing to happen immediately.

And perhaps most importantly, remembering that our lives don’t have to resemble anyone else’s version of what makes sense.

We spend so much time trying to get the square peg into the round hole because somewhere along the way we became convinced that this is the hole it’s supposed to fit into.

Maybe it isn’t.

So, Santa Fe

Around my birthday, I’m heading west.

A change of scenery. A part of the desert I’ve never explored. Art and architecture and desert and food and whatever else I stumble into along the way.

Very few plans beyond following what feels interesting.

Which, perhaps, is exactly the point.

I will, of course, report back on all discoveries. Anti-gatekeeping forever.

South Tyrol isn’t going anywhere.

Neither am I.

And there is something incredibly freeing about realizing that not everything needs to happen right now.

Sometimes the thing that isn’t working doesn’t need another strategy.

Sometimes you just need to put down the square peg.

And notice what fits.

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Heartbeats

The places, people, objects, ideas, and discoveries currently making mine beat a little faster.

Sarah Creal on Take Your Time
I loved this conversation between Sarah and . Sarah Creal is such an expander for me—someone who operated at the highest levels of her industry, absorbed everything she could along the way, and then had the courage and conviction to forge a path entirely her own. There’s something incredibly inspiring about watching someone take decades of experience and turn it into something that feels distinctly theirs. And on that note, the Sarah Creal products I own have officially become non-negotiables. I use them and love them.

Sophie Bille Brahe
A longtime jewelry favorite of mine, made even more special after attending the most beautiful gathering hosted by the angel that is . Getting to see—and, more importantly, try on—some of Sophie Bille Brahe’s coveted jewels in person was a dream. Also not to be overlooked: their beautiful velvet jewelry boxes, which come in the most covetable colors and might just be the perfect gift.

The Cheese Counter at Zabar’s
That’s it. There are very few things I love more than an old-school New York institution that has absolutely no need to reinvent itself. Give me the abundance, the experts behind the counter, and far too many cheeses to choose from. Perfect as is.

Fresh-Squeezed Orange Juice
A rediscovered simple pleasure. There is something about fresh-squeezed orange juice that feels wildly luxurious for something so uncomplicated.

Guittard Chocolate Chips Sweetened with Coconut Sugar
A very specific recommendation, which usually means you should listen. These have become a pantry staple—The perfect something sweet.

H2Tabs
In the ongoing pursuit of making my water work a little harder: H2Tabs. Hydrogen tablets you drop straight into your water and an incredibly easy addition to my everyday routine. Consider this my latest little water upgrade.

And as always, everything linkable and shoppable lives in my ShopMy. Everything else, consider this me passing along the good stuff.

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One Last Thing…

I know so much has been shared about Dolly Parton over the last few days, but I couldn’t close this week without mentioning her.

Since her passing, I’ve found myself going down endless Dolly rabbit holes—interviews, performances, stories—and have been completely overcome by the way she is being remembered. Beyond the extraordinary talent was her grace, humor, generosity, deep kindness and humanity.

But more than anything, there was a fire within her. She dreamed enormously, worked incredibly hard, knew exactly who she was, and seemingly never lost her ability to laugh, give back, and lift others along the way.

It’s a combination I find hard to articulate, but one I hope to emulate and pass along in whatever ways I can.

What a woman. What a life. What an inspiration.

Thank you for being here.

xx

Shipper

And if you’d like to connect—to soundboard an idea, find some clarity, or simply talk through what’s next—you can book a session with me here. Book a 1:1 with me

Not because I’m becoming more private, but because I’m becoming more intentional. This has never been about gatekeeping. If anything, it's about honoring the right timing. As a 6/2 Manifestor, we're built to inform (cc: ).

There was a time when the excitement of something new almost demanded to be shared. A new project. A business idea. A relationship. A possibility. It felt natural to call someone, send the text, say it out loud before it had even taken shape.

I think most of us do this because we’re looking for connection. Sometimes encouragement. Sometimes simply someone to be excited with us.

But over the years, I’ve started to notice something.

The moment an idea leaves your mind, it enters someone else’s.

And no matter how much they love you, they can only respond from the perspective of their own experiences.

Most people genuinely want to help.

They offer advice.
They identify risks.
They tell you how they would do it.
They explain why something might not work.

Almost always, it comes from a place of care.

But here’s what I’ve learned:

They don’t know what you know.

They haven’t lived your experiences.

They don’t see the connections you’ve been quietly collecting for years.

They aren’t building it the way you’re going to build it.

Sometimes, the quickest way to lose confidence in an idea is to introduce it to someone before you’ve fully convinced yourself.

That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t seek advice.

Quite the opposite.

It means we should become incredibly thoughtful about who we invite into the process.

I’ve found a handful of people who have the remarkable ability to hold a container rather than fill it.

They don’t immediately solve.

They don’t project.

They don’t unintentionally make the idea smaller.

Instead, they ask better questions.

They create enough space for me to hear my own thinking.

Those conversations have changed everything.

Because the right people don’t tell you what to build.

They help you become more certain about what you already know.

I’ve realized this doesn’t only apply to businesses or creative projects.

It applies to almost everything.

The clothes you wear.

The restaurants you love.

The music you return to.

The city you choose.

The way you spend a Saturday.

It’s surprisingly easy to drift toward what’s popular, what’s praised, or what everyone else seems to be choosing.

But every time I come back to the things that genuinely light me up—even if no one else understands them—I feel a little more like myself.

Maybe that’s discernment.

Not trying to attract everyone.

Just becoming so aligned with what feels true that the right people, opportunities, and ideas begin finding you naturally.

Of course, this isn’t linear.

Some days you’ll feel ten steps ahead.

Other days you’ll wonder if you’ve moved backward.

But I think that’s simply what happens when you’re building something that’s actually yours.

It takes patience.

It takes restraint.

It takes trusting that an idea doesn’t become more real because more people know about it.

Sometimes it becomes real because you gave it enough quiet to grow.

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Things That Make My Heartbeat

As always, here are a few recent discoveries that have found their way into my every day. You can also browse some favorites on my ShopMy linked here.

An Endless Travel Wishlist
I’ve officially started keeping an ongoing list of dream destinations. Half the fun is discovering places long before you visit them, and I’ve found the Amigo app to be a complete game changer for saving restaurants, shops, hotels, and hidden gems while traveling (or dreaming about traveling).

Still Here | Christopher Street
The new West Village location is officially open, and I finally picked up the Cool Jean in white. Worth the wait.

An Adventure with One of Your Best Friends
A gentle reminder that some of the best days don’t require a grand plan—just the right person. and I spent a spontaneous day in the Hamptons that filled my cup in every possible way: Hampton Coffee, Green Thumb peaches, dancing at Forward Space at The Barn, Galerie Sardine, and an afternoon exploring some of our favorite shops and hidden finds. If anyone is planning a day trip, I’m more than happy to share the full itinerary.

Mumford & Sons at Madison Square Garden
Some concerts become memories before they’re even over. Mumford & Sons at MSG felt like one of those rare, core-memory kind of nights. So special and great company

Charlotte Chesnais

I’ve admired Charlotte Chesnais’ jewelry for years, and with my birthday around the corner, it finally feels like the right time. This “N” pendant immediately made me think of my mom, Nancy—a beautiful piece to wear every day that feels both personal and timeless. Some things are worth waiting for.

Glory’s Outpost

I’ve been making a conscious effort to elevate my artisan sourcing lately, and Glory’s Outpost has completely blown me away. They take Birkenstocks and hand-burn the most beautiful illustrations directly into the leather. It’s such a unique craft—equal parts functional, artistic, and completely one of a kind. Exactly the kind of maker I love discovering.

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Keep building the things that feel true, even before anyone else can see them.

And if Carefree Highway made you think of someone this week, I’d love if you shared it with them. Some of the best things are still passed from one person to another.

Thank you for being here,

Shipper x

Partly because I needed it. Mostly because I had been spending every spare hour refining Ancora Creative—what started as a simple website refresh somehow became a complete reintroduction. A new logo. A fresh deck. A refined website. A fresh look at everything I’d built so far.

Funny how that happens.

I couldn’t change one thing without wanting to understand all the others. Every decision pointed to another. Every refinement uncovered something deeper. I suppose that’s the beauty of a ripple effect—you think you’re changing one thing, only to realize everything is connected.

Maybe that’s life.

This past month has been one of the most informative, humbling, and beautiful stretches I’ve had in a long time. There were moments that felt almost out of body, as if I had stepped outside my own life and was observing it instead of living it. Everything slowed down. Memories surfaced. Conversations replayed. Pieces I’d collected over years suddenly began finding each other.

It was as though someone had poured all of the puzzle pieces onto the table and quietly whispered, Take your time.

The lightness I feel now is hard to explain. It’s as if another layer has been uncovered. Things feel brighter. Simpler. More aligned.

Maybe that’s what happens when you become more yourself.

I’ve been thinking a lot about how nothing we experience is ever really lost. We carry it all with us—conversations, places, people, tiny moments we don’t think we’ll ever revisit. Then one ordinary afternoon, something calls them back.

Not by accident.

Yesterday was Summer Streets in New York. They close Lafayette and Park Avenue to cars so people can walk, bike, and run through the city uninterrupted. It’s one of my favorite days of the year.

I grabbed a Citi Bike and rode from Astor Place all the way to 90th Street. Instead of heading straight back downtown, I wandered over to the Central Park Reservoir. I hadn’t been there in years.

As I started walking with music in my headphones, a memory appeared almost instantly.

Fifteen years ago, when I had just started running, I signed up for my very first 10K. I used to train around that reservoir, and I remember the first time I made it all the way around without stopping.

Twenty-two minutes.

At the time, I thought I was flying.

I remember calling my mom afterward, crying because I was so proud of myself.

Eventually, I became a better runner. I learned twenty-two minutes wasn’t especially fast.

But that’s never what mattered.

What mattered was that I didn’t stop.

That run taught me something I’ve carried into almost every chapter of my life since—not perfection, not speed, but consistency. The quiet decision to keep going, even when progress feels slow.

Standing there yesterday, I realized I hadn’t thought about that moment in years.

Yet somehow it found me exactly when I needed it.

Maybe that’s how life works.

The things that shaped us don’t disappear. They simply wait until we’re ready to understand them differently.

So if something from your past keeps finding its way back to you—a place, a memory, a conversation, a person—I wouldn’t rush past it.

Pay attention.

It might not be nostalgia.

It might be another piece of the puzzle.

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Things That Make My Heartbeat

CO Bigelow × Altesse Hairbrushes
Made in France and beautifully crafted, these brushes immediately caught my eye. I’d been waiting for the right hairbrush—not just another one—and this felt like it. The quality is incredible, with the same heirloom feeling as a Mason Pearson, but at a much more approachable price.

Jolie Shower Filter
Don’t fight it any longer. Hair health has been a focus for me lately, and this had been sitting on my list for months. It somehow makes every shower feel a little more luxurious, and my hair is already thanking me.

A Fresh Bed for August
There’s something about the start of a new month (and the last stretch of summer) that calls for fresh bedding. After hearing rave reviews, I finally ordered from Quince. Beautiful quality, timeless colors, and honestly hard to beat for the price.

High Valley Books | Greenpoint
I’ve been getting ping after ping to visit this bookstore, and after seeing their curation, I completely understand why. My appointment is officially being made.

This Vuori Set
Every once in a while, you put something on and immediately know it’s going to become part of your weekly rotation. This is that set.

^{top | pants}

Olive Oil Matters
I recently upgraded my olive oil game with two bottles—one for cooking and one reserved for finishing. A huge thank you to the incredibly knowledgeable team at Big Night, who patiently answered the surprising number of olive oil questions I had. I’m never going back.

Beads of Paradise
I’m on a mission to make more things with my own hands, and this place is pure Narnia for anyone who loves beautiful objects. I walked out with everything I needed to start making my own necklace. It’s still a work in progress.

Ancora Creative’s new chapter. Launching my refreshed website and identity this week has felt less like becoming someone new and more like finally introducing someone who’s been here all along.

The reminder that consistency compounds. Not because every day feels monumental, but because one day you look back and realize how far you’ve come.

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If Carefree Highway made you think of someone this week, I'd love if you shared it with them. Friends, family, friends of friends—everyone's welcome here. Some of the best things are still passed from one person to another.

Thanks for being here,

Shipper x

Not because I didn’t have anything to say, but because I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

Every summer since I was nine years old, my family has made the pilgrimage to Ogunquit, Maine. It’s one of those places that somehow stays exactly the same while you continue becoming someone new.

The magic never wears off.

Oddly enough, without an alarm, I woke up every morning at 4:30.

Not out of obligation. Not because I was trying to optimize my day.

I simply woke up.

I’d sit in my favorite Adirondack chair—the same one where my mom and I used to watch the water magically move in every direction and gab together. Before anyone else was awake, I’d meditate while the sun slowly introduced itself to the day.

It felt sacred.

The air was impossibly cool against what ended up being one of the hottest weeks I’ve ever spent there. A breeze that only seems to exist for that brief window before the world catches up.

Then I’d walk the Marginal Way alone. Later, I’d walk it again with my family.

Both versions felt equally important.

I usually panic before trips.

Not because I don’t want to leave, but because I fear I’ll lose momentum.

I pack too many workout clothes. Bring every supplement. Try to recreate my routine somewhere it doesn’t belong.

This time I didn’t. I took the week off. No strength training. No supplement water. Just long walks, lobster rolls, ice cream with extra sprinkles, and permission to disappear for a little while. And my body thanked me. My mind thanked me. More importantly...I trusted myself.

There was a time when stepping away from routine meant never finding it again. Now I know better. I know I’ll come back. There’s something incredibly freeing about realizing you’ve become someone you can trust.

Ironically, the one thing I did miss was my vibration plate- LOL. I didn’t expect to notice the difference as much as I did. The moment I got home, I stepped back on it and immediately remembered why it’s become such a staple in my mornings.

I’m also switching up my workouts and supplements—not because something wasn’t working, but because I think our bodies deserve new conversations every once in a while. *Aminos I’m using atm and Hair Supplement I’m 4 months into and can’t recommend enough

Right before I left for Maine, I had one of those quiet nudges. You know the kind…No logic. No explanation. Just a feeling.

Book the session.

My dear friend, , had recommended , and something in me said, don’t overthink this. So I listened. The session ended up being one of those rare experiences that rearranges something inside you. Not because someone tells you who you are. Because they create enough space for you to remember. It’s such a gift to meet people who can hold that kind of space—people who simultaneously make you feel seen and inspire you to look inward with more honesty. If you’ve been waiting for permission to trust your intuition... This is it.

Lately, I have this overwhelming feeling that I’m standing on the edge of something incredibly exciting.

Not one thing. Everything. My work. My relationships. My health. My creativity. Even the quiet parts of life feel like they’re quietly assembling into something bigger than I can see right now. For the first time, I’m not rushing toward whatever comes next. I’m trying to become someone who marvels at it while it’s still unfolding.

Maybe that’s what patience actually is. Not waiting. TRUSTING.

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The Heartbeat

Consider this your weekly permission slip to become obsessed with something new.

Fashion People with Laura Sherman podcast
Without a doubt my favorite listen of the week, New Brand Gospel episode. Lauren interviews Jenna Lyons and Jonny Bauer. A must listen.

The Zabar’s “Always New York” Hat
The hat is great. The story is even better. I mentioned to my dad that the limited-edition Knicks-inspired Zabar’s hat had already sold out while we were together in the city. Yesterday he called to tell me a package had arrived at my apartment. Somehow—without me knowing—he tracked one down. I still have no idea how he pulled it off, and honestly, I don’t want to know. He’s always been the king of surprise and delight, and somehow he continues to outdo himself.

Preservationist Vitamin C Serum
I’ve been craving a little change in my skincare routine, and this has been such a great addition. Brightening, lightweight, and one of those products that quietly earns a permanent place on the shelf. Find it here.

Tees & Tanks Worth Mentioning

• Skims Cotton Jersey Tanks & Tees

• La Ligne Valerie Tee

• Jungmaven Cropped Ojai Tee (the chocolate brown is the perfect shade)

• Negative Underwear whipped basics that somehow make every outfit feel a little more put together.

My Lenny’s Levi’s
Quite possibly one of the best wardrobe investments I’ve ever made. I waited until the timing felt right, and they somehow fit as though they’d always belonged to me. Worth every penny. If you’ve been considering a pair, keep an eye on their Instagram—they announce pop-ups there, and they’re absolutely worth planning around.

HTSI Weekend
Still my favorite weekend read. Every issue feels like someone with impeccable taste curated the perfect newspaper.

🦞 Maine Lobster Roll Rankings
If you’re headed north:

• The Clam Shack (Kennebunk)

• Footbridge Lobster (Perkins Cove)

And if you’re ordering steamers?

Barnacle Billy’s. No debate.

The Anemos Dress (Navy)
There are certain pieces that immediately earn "forever" status in your wardrobe, and this is one of them. I finally invested in the navy Anemos dress, and I already know it'll be with me for years.

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More to come!

Thanks for being here,

Shipper

Today is the summer solstice—the longest day of the year and, depending on how you choose to look at it, an invitation to see things a little more clearly.

I’ve been thinking a lot about abundance lately. Not abundance in the aspirational Pinterest-board sense. Not more, more, more. But abundance as an openness. An ability to believe there is enough. Enough time. Enough opportunity. Enough possibility. Enough trust in whatever comes next.

The last few weeks have felt like a masterclass in testing that belief.

Plans shifted. Timelines changed. Expectations required adjusting. I’ve found myself repeatedly confronted with the gap between what I can control and what I can’t. It’s not a new lesson, but apparently one I still need regular refreshers on.

The thing that keeps surfacing is how attached I can become to what I’m used to. The familiar workout class. The predictable routine. The plan I made in my head. And yet, almost every meaningful period of growth in my life has begun with a disruption.

A shake-up. A forced pivot. An unexpected invitation to try something different.

I’ve lived in New York City since 2007. Nearly two decades. That’s a long time to be anywhere. Yet somehow, the magic of this city is not lost on me. Sure, there are days when the overstimulation wins. But every so often, the city delivers a reminder so powerful it knocks you right over the head.

Sometimes it’s a view. The way the light reflects off the buildings at sunrise. The golden glow at sunset. A quiet side street that somehow feels cinematic.

And recently, it was something entirely different. The Knicks.

I’m not sure I’ve ever witnessed New York come together in quite the same way as it did during last week’s historic win. A bus driver’s nod at the sight of my Knicks gear. People smiling at each other on the street. High fives. Tears. Genuine joy radiating from every corner of the city.

It was a vibrational energy that’s difficult to explain but impossible to miss. A collective moment of hope. Of possibility. Of believing something great could happen. The kind of feeling that reminds you we’re all connected, even in a city of millions.

It’s a feeling I’ll remember forever. Summer in the city brings its own shifts, too. My usual workout instructors are migrating east for the season, which means the routines I’ve grown attached to are about to disappear for a few months. A small thing. But also a perfect example. I’m being “forced” to try different ways to move my body in new ways, meet different people, and disrupt the rhythm I’ve become comfortable with. Not bad, just different. And if I’m honest, probably exactly what I need. Because left to my own devices, I might never make the change.

Lately I’ve been thinking about that in other areas of life as well. Making time for newer friendships. Investing in relationships that feel nourishing. Choosing experiences over autopilot. Being intentional about where my attention goes.

My time is currency. While I’m making a valiant effort to become more thoughtful with my finances, I’m equally focused on becoming more thoughtful with my time.

Who and What deserves it. Abundance, for me right now, looks less like adding and more like choosing. Choosing presence. Choosing possibility. Choosing trust. Choosing to believe that a change in plans might actually be making room for something better.

So on this longest day of the year, with all this extra light available to us, I hope you find a chance to see something a little more clearly. A new perspective. A fresh opportunity. A reminder you’ve been needing. Or simply a moment to notice the way the light hits. And if you’re lucky, perhaps you’ll see it all with just a touch of glow.

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Things That Make My Heartbeat

Helen Frankenthaler at Gagosian
Simply stunning. The scale, the color, the vibrancy—it all feels impossible to fully appreciate until you’re standing in front of it. A must-see if you’re in New York this summer.

Microgreen Breakfast Bowls
My current breakfast obsession. Packed with nutrients and endlessly adaptable based on whatever catches my eye at the farmer’s market. I think I’ve officially mastered the formula.

333 on Insight Timer
I recently hit my 333-day milestone. A small number with a big impact. Meditating every morning has genuinely changed my life in ways both subtle and profound.

The Schnitzel at FOOOD on Canal
Proof that simple is great.

New York Being New York
The Knicks energy. Golden-hour light bouncing off buildings. Conversations with strangers. The kind of moments that remind me why I’ve loved this city for nearly two decades.

Maui Nui Venison Sticks at Meadow Lane
A current favorite. High-protein, clean ingredients, and hard to find!

This packaging:

This quote from Moonomens:

For those who always ask, “Where did you find that?”—I’ve updated my ShopMy with more of the things currently making my heart beat. A curated collection of favorites, discoveries, and everyday essentials that have earned a permanent spot in my rotation.

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As we move into the heart of summer, my hope for all of us is that we allow ourselves to play a little more outside the lines. To loosen our grip on what we’ve always done. To say yes to a different route home, a new class, a spontaneous dinner, an unexpected conversation, or a plan that wasn’t part of the original blueprint.

Sometimes the best things arrive through the door we weren’t planning to open.

So let the light in. Let it illuminate what needs attention, what deserves gratitude, and what might be waiting just beyond your comfort zone.

I’m heading to Maine week after next—my favorite place by the sea—and I can’t wait to discover what’s new, what’s changed, and what remains exactly the same. There’s something comforting about returning to a place you love and allowing it to surprise you anyway.

Until next time, may you find a little more light, a little more possibility, and a reason to believe there’s more available to you than you can currently see.

Thanks for being here,

Shipper x

Reflecting on my business. Reflecting on the projects I’ve said yes to. Reflecting on the opportunities that have worked out, the ones that haven’t, and all the ideas still floating somewhere in between.

I’ve been sorting through what feels like it’s working versus what’s not. At first, I thought I was evaluating success. But the deeper I dug, the more I realized I define success differently than I used to. Success, for me, is increasingly tied to how something feels.

Does it fill my cup? Does it energize me? Do I feel in flow while doing it?

The answer isn’t always obvious in the moment. Sometimes the projects that look the best on paper are the ones that leave me depleted. Other times, the things that make absolutely no sense from the outside end up becoming the most meaningful opportunities. And that’s where trust comes in.

Trust in myself. Trust in the process. Trust that not everything needs to be mapped out before I begin. Lately, I’ve been thinking about the phrase “catch and release.” Not in the traditional sense, but in relation to ideas. I think so many of us catch an idea and immediately begin interrogating it.

Is it good enough?

Does it make sense?

Will it work?

Should I wait until I know more?

Should I have a better plan?

Should I be more prepared?

By the time we’re done questioning it, we’ve talked ourselves out of starting altogether.

What if the practice is simply to catch the idea and release it into action? Not because you’re certain it will work, but because you’re curious enough to find out.

To send the email.

To make the introduction.

To pitch the project.

To write the post.

To start the business.

To take the class.

To follow the instinct.

To do the thing.

I’ve realized that some of the most meaningful moments in my life and career have come from acting before I had all the answers. Not recklessly, just willingly.

Following a thread because it felt worth exploring. Some of those threads led nowhere. Some completely changed the trajectory of my life.

I think creativity requires a certain level of surrender. An openness to experiment. A willingness to look a little foolish. The courage to create without demanding certainty in return. And maybe that’s what I’m trying to practice more of right now. Less overthinking. More trust. Less controlling the outcome. More following the curiosity. Because the truth is, most things won’t work out exactly as planned. But some things will work out far better than you could have imagined. You’ll never know which is which if you don’t release the idea into the world. So, here’s to catching the thought, the instinct, the opportunity, the invitation. And then letting it go. Not because you don’t care. But because you trust yourself enough to see where it leads.

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Things That Make My Heartbeat

The Frick Collection’s Free Fridays. I just learned this program was extended thanks to Louis Vuitton and immediately set a reminder in my phone. August 7th tickets open on July 20th, and yes, it’s completely free. A small victory for culture lovers everywhere.

A Delfonics card case in the most delightful shade of turquoise. Chic, practical, and inexpensive.

The LL Bean Japanese Edition Rose Barn Jacket. I waited patiently to fall in love with the right barn jacket and can confidently report: this is the one. No notes.

Patter Bars. Founded in Denver and first discovered during a farmers market wander four years ago. A recent trip back confirmed they still hit. I left with a 12-pack of the blueberry minis and zero regrets.

Dense seeded bread with heirloom tomatoes. Sometimes cottage cheese joins the party, sometimes not. Either way, peak summer eating is often the simplest.

Inheritance in Denver’s RiNo district. One of those stores that immediately ignites all the feelings. A beautiful curation of home, lifestyle, and objects that make you want to reconsider everything in your apartment.

Side Eye sunglasses. I visited the founders at their showroom because I simply could not make a decision online. I landed on the Butler pair and have not looked back.

Freddo cappuccinos. If you ever stumble upon a Greek festival, street fair, or café serving one, don’t ask questions—just order it. Trust me on this.

House of Joseon Rice + Probiotics Sunscreen. Somehow both impossible to find and worth the hunt. Light as a feather and finally sourced thanks to a friend’s recommendation and a Korean skincare shop on Sixth Avenue.

Goop Kitchen takeout enjoyed on a rooftop.

The Knicks n all the ways & New York City itself. I’m not sure being here has ever been more fun.

more HERE

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As always, thank you for being here.

I’m still very much refining what this little corner of the internet wants to be and how I want to show up within it. What I do know is that I am enjoying this medium more than I ever expected. Writing these notes has become a meaningful part of my creative process—a place to collect thoughts, follow curiosities, and share them before they’re fully figured out.

I’m incredibly grateful for your support, your messages, your replies, and for following along. If something here resonates, and you feel inclined to share Carefree Highway with a friend, colleague, or fellow curious person, I would be so appreciative.

More to come.

Thank you for being here,

Shipper xx

More to discover at Ancora Creative and @_ancoracreative

Life has a way of arriving with incredible clarity one moment and complete chaos the next. Just when you feel like you finally made it to the next mountain range — when your footing feels steady, your perspective expands, and you can finally exhale — something unexpected rolls in and knocks you back down toward the starting line.

But what I keep coming back to is this: you always make it through.

We don’t talk about that enough.

History shows us, over and over again, that throughout your entire life, you have always made it through every hard thing you swore would break you. Sometimes with indescribable grace and composure, and other times completely messy, emotional, exhausted, and unhinged. But you made it. Every single time.

And I think there is so much comfort in that deep knowing.

As I continue building my business, every month — sometimes every single week — feels radically different from the last. There are moments where I feel calm, grounded, and entirely certain of where I’m headed, followed almost immediately by moments of scarcity, confusion, or lack of clarity. Relationships evolve. Some deepen beautifully, others reveal themselves for what they truly are.

What I’m beginning to realize is that this, too, is a gift.

The reveal.

The moment the curtain gets pulled back and something once unknown suddenly becomes clear. And once you know, you know. The lesson becomes less about the discovery itself and more about what you choose to do with the information next.

These past few weeks have been deeply revealing for me in ways both challenging and energizing. And despite the discomfort that can come with unexpected change, I find myself more committed than ever to continuing to learn, adapt, and show up anyway.

I must keep showing up.

Maybe that’s the real practice. Not avoiding the storm, but trusting your ability to survive it. Trusting that even after every setback, every detour, every disappointment, you will still find your way forward somehow.

And you always do.

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Things That Make My Heartbeat

The Costume Is Art exhibit at the Met. So beautifully curated and entirely worth the visit. A reminder that fashion, at its best, is storytelling, preservation, fantasy, and craftsmanship all at once.

Ludivine on the Upper East Side. The selection is incredibly thoughtful and the experience feels personal in the best way. It’s a small boutique where you’re actually guided and cared for instead of overwhelmed. Rare these days.

The Lifepro vibration plate. I finally caved — and I’m genuinely so happy I did. As someone deeply sensitive to inflammation, I’ve found it surprisingly supportive and grounding in my routine.

Harry’s Berries strawberries. Completely decadent and absolutely worth every penny while they’re in season. Although, I must say, the strawberries at the farmers market lately have been giving them serious competition.

Old people holding hands on the street inthe wild.

Cappuccinos and friend dates at Bar Pisellino. One of life’s great luxuries. cc: Erica Feiler.

The freddo cappuccino at Café Leon Dore. deeply delicious.

And Nécessaire’s new santal hand wash and hand lotion. 10/10. So chic without trying too hard.

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The meaning behind Ancora has continued to resonate so deeply with me through every season of building. An anchor. A return point. A reminder that no matter how chaotic, unclear, or turbulent things become, you can always come back to the origin — your why.

I think there is a real superpower in that. In being able to ground yourself amidst uncertainty and, in turn, offer that same steadiness to the people around you — your clients, collaborators, community, and relationships. To create clarity amidst noise.

Thank you for being here,

Shipper x

At first, it felt isolating. Like I was the only one moving through it. But as is so often the case, I was gently reminded: you’re rarely alone in what you’re feeling.

A few weeks ago, I attended my first formal tea ceremony. I was given very little context going in, which—if you know me—felt both intriguing and slightly unsettling.

My initial thought: I’ve got this.
I meditate every morning. I’ve grown comfortable in stillness. I love tea.

What could go wrong?

Three cups of caffeinated red tea, no talking, no guidance, and a foot cramp later—I found myself deeply uncomfortable. Not just physically, but mentally.

I started to spiral inward:
Is everyone else feeling this?
Am I the only one struggling right now?

It was impossible to read the room. Everyone remained composed, quiet, still.

And then, later during the debrief, something shifted.
Others shared that they had experienced the same thing. The same discomfort. The same questioning. And just like that, the isolation dissolved. What stayed with me most wasn’t the discomfort itself—but how fleeting it was. I moved through it.
Just like I always do. And in doing so, I built another layer of resilience. A quiet reminder to myself: I can do hard things. This will pass. Even the jitters of an over-caffeinated body.

Since that ceremony, the weeks that followed have stretched me in different ways—testing decisions I’m making in my business, and in my personal life.

And honestly, thank God for that.

Because within that discomfort, I’ve been able to notice old patterns resurfacing patterns I’ve done real work to shift. And maybe that’s the point. Not perfection, but awareness. Not avoidance, but evolution.

There’s one more layer to this that landed for me in a deeper way this morning. Discomfort isn’t always something to push through. Sometimes, it’s information. A signal from your nervous system that something isn’t quite right. That feeling in your gut when something—or someone—leaves you confused, unsettled, or slightly off-center? That’s not something to override. That’s something to listen to.

It might be right for someone else.
But that doesn’t mean it’s right for you.

You should never feel small.
You should never feel confused.

And the longer you try to force alignment—trying to fit the square peg into the round hole—the more you move away from your own rhythm, your own clarity, your own truth. So instead of resisting discomfort, I’m learning to meet it with curiosity.

To ask:
Is this something I’m meant to move through?
Or
Is this something I’m meant to move away from?

Because both are valid. And both require trust.

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Things That Make My Heartbeat

A gentle reminder that my ShopMy is live—and slowly becoming a home for all of the things I can’t help but share. I’m adding to it intentionally, as discoveries come my way.

Ethea Pilates (Tribeca) — brand new, hot Pilates. Very challenging and elevated space.

Two restaurant openings worth noting:
Cleo (downtown) and Deans — both serving exactly the kind of food you want to eat right now. Simple, thoughtful, and deeply satisfying. No overthinking required.

Myka Frozen Yogurt — the froyo resurgence is very real. My only advice: go during off-hours because the lines are… insanity. That said, this one earns the hype.

Goop Kitchen — Shook (in the best way) by how good this actually is. Very happy it’s finally in NYC.

Tom Sachs at Salon 94 (UES) — a deep dive into his work in one of the most beautiful spaces. Worth your time.

Officina 1397 — a true treasure hunt every time. One of those places you walk into “just to browse” and leave completely inspired (and usually with something you didn’t know you needed).

The Fashion People Podcast – Nili Lotan episode — the way she speaks about holding your vision and staying consistent truly rocked me. A quiet, powerful reminder that staying the course—especially when it’s not loud or immediate—is where the real magic happens.

And of course, The Met Gala — tomorrow, the first Monday in May celebrating Costume is Art. A cultural moment, whether you’re watching for the fashion, the spectacle, or just the ritual of it all.

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After a few weeks of reflection and clarity, I’m in the process of recalibrating this space.

I’ll share more soon—but something new is quietly taking shape.

Thank you for being here,

Shipper xx

I’ve been sitting with the contrast. How quickly my nervous system softened into something slower, quieter, more attuned while I was away…and how just as quickly, the city reintroduced a different rhythm—faster, sharper, alive in its own way.

And still, I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for both.

I’ve been thinking a lot about balance—not as something we achieve and hold, but something that is always present, just constantly shifting. A recalibration, not a destination. As someone who moves in bursts (a manifestor by Human design)—deeply inspired & energized, then deeply in need of rest—I’m learning that this is not something to fix. It’s something to honor.

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Reminders to Self (from being away)

A fresh, perfectly ripe mango in the morning—is a form of self-respect.
A small ritual, but one that feels like pure joy.

Sunsets are sacred. To watch the light disappear over water, uninterrupted, is medicine. I don’t want to forget that.

A break from routine gave me something I didn’t realize I needed: space to appreciate my body without pressure. To notice progress without trying to measure it.

A loose structure is enough. Just a guidepost. That’s where the magic lives—in the unplanned, the accidental, the “should we just…”

Changing my environment isn’t indulgent, it’s essential.

Surfing reminded me what resilience actually feels like.
To meet the ocean in all of its moods—calm, chaotic, humbling—and return each day anyway. There’s something deeply grounding in that.

Going back to yoga with zero expectation changed everything. No performance, no outcome—just presence. And in that, I found a deeper kind of appreciation.

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Things That Make My Heartbeat

I’ve been slowly building out my ShopMy—an ongoing, considered edit of pieces and finds that have made their way into my world. Think of it as a living moodboard of sorts, where I’ll continue to add what I’m loving, wearing, and returning to. Give it a follow and share!

Sleepers Platform flip flops — finally tried them on in a little shop in Nosara and… instantly understood. An ethical brand I’ve had my eye on for years. Simple, elevated, and somehow make every outfit feel considered.

Loonen sparkling water — founded by a mom, mineral-rich, and served up in a glass bottle. The kind of detail that quietly upgrades everything.

Fresh-cut tulips — they are peak right now at the farmer’s market. There’s a fleeting magic to them. Buy them while you can.

Egg crate charcuterie — saw this presentation and can’t stop thinking about it. so clever.

Rolling Waves - Costa Rican coffee — full stop. Life is simply too short for bad coffee.

Mortar and pestle guacamole — there’s something about the ritual of it. Currently sourcing the perfect set if you have any ideas?

Recipe Share

I felt called to share this one. cook for myself often, but I like to keep it simple—something I can return to without overthinking. Lately, I’ve found myself in a consistent groove with this one. Chicken wings, made in the air fryer.

A grill will always be the preference, but living in NYC, this has become the next best thing—and honestly, it delivers every time.

I use organic Bell & Evans wings, give them a thorough rinse, and pat them completely dry (this part matters—less moisture, better crisp). From there, a light spray of olive oil and a simple seasoning: salt, pepper, paprika, and garlic powder on both sides.

Into the air fryer they go—10 minutes on the chicken setting, then flip. Another 10 minutes at 385°F, and finish with a quick 3-minute broil to get that perfect crisp.

It’s easy, reliable, and feels just indulgent. Enjoy!

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The Return

Coming back has been loud. More stimulating. More demanding. But also… energizing. Full of possibility. Familiar in a way that feels like stepping back into myself, just slightly expanded. I don’t think the goal is to recreate the calm of being away while in the city. I think the practice is learning how to carry pieces of it with me with intention.

Balance exists. It just looks different depending on where you are—and who you are in that moment. And maybe that’s the point.

Thank you for being here! xx Shipper

Yes, I’ve been working on my body. Showing up, lifting heavier, integrating strength training into my routine in a way that feels new and test’s my patience and resilience in ways I never could have imagined.

But the real muscle I’ve been building is something else entirely.

Self-promise follow through.

It feels like the 2.0 version of keeping promises to yourself. Not the kind you say out loud or write down in a list somewhere, but the quieter ones—the ones that live in the background of your life. The things you’ve always said “one day” about.

Next week, I’m heading to Costa Rica, and one of the things I’ve committed to is learning how to surf. It’s something I’ve wanted to do for as long as I can remember.

I used to sit at Surfrider Beach in Malibu on solo afternoons, watching the surfers with this quiet admiration—the patience, the stillness, the waiting. There’s something about the ocean that has always brought me back to myself and constantly reminds me of my mother. She LOVED the ocean-always mesmerized by the bluest of color and the sound of the waves. And the idea of connecting to it in that way has lived in me for years.

And yet… I hadn’t done it. Not because I couldn’t. Just because I hadn’t.

That’s the thing I’ve been sitting with lately. The truth is, we make time for what actually matters to us. No matter how busy life feels. No matter what’s going on. We carve out the time—for the people, for the check-in, for the call, for the experience.

Showing up is a love language. Follow through is a form of devotion.

And maybe that’s what this season is really about for me—Less waiting for the “right time,” more honoring the knowing that it already is. I was listening (again) to the Aspire podcast this week—Emma Grede interviewing Rich Kleiman—and there was one line that’s been on repeat in my mind: “Life is one long experience.” And something about that reframed everything for me. We treat vacations—these short, fleeting windows of time—with so much intention. We plan, we savor, we show up fully.

But this—this whole life—is the actual experience. So why wouldn’t we treat it with the same care? In many ways, this feels deeply connected to the work I do with Ancora—creating experiences that are memorable, intentional, and felt. But I’m realizing now it’s not just about creating that for others. It’s about creating it for myself.

So this is my reminder, to me and maybe to you too:

Do the thing you’ve been quietly saying you’ll do.
Not someday. Not eventually. Now.

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Things That Make My Heartbeat

I’ve started keeping a living collection of these—pieces, places, and things I genuinely love—over on my ShopMy. Think of it as an extension of this section. You can explore it HERE.

Originae Boxing Studio
A wonderful way to humble yourself very quickly. There’s something about stepping into something new, being a beginner again, and feeling your body work in a different way. A fun one to throw into the mix.

Arcane Coffee, Carmine Street
Lives up to the hype and recently voted one of the worlds 100 best coffee shops. Excellent coffee, but more than that—it’s a place that encourages you to take your time.

HERO NYC, Rockefeller Center
The immersive sound exhibit is worth the visit. Unexpected, transportive, and a reminder of how powerful sensory experiences can be when done well.

First signs of spring at the farmers market
You can feel it. Always one of my favorite transitions. Jazz in the background on repeat.

Mahjong
Finally took a lesson and I’m officially hooked. Who’s ready to play?

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I’ve been thinking about purpose through the lens of follow through—not as something to define, but as something to follow. It’s easy to think of it as this fixed point you’re meant to arrive at, but in reality, it’s much more fluid than that. It shows up in patterns—in what you’re drawn to, what you return to, what you’re willing to make time for.

It evolves as you do.

And if you’re paying attention, it quietly directs you—not in grand gestures, but in small, consistent nudges. The things that feel right before they make sense. The decisions that don’t always look logical on paper, but feel aligned in your body. I’m realizing it’s less about asking “what is my purpose?” and more about noticing where it’s already guiding me. When you trust it—and actually follow through—it has a way of moving you exactly where you’re meant to go.

Thank you for being here xx

Shipper

Not the obvious ones. Not the big, dramatic refusals or the clear “no’s” we give to things that simply aren’t meant for us. I’m talking about the subtler ones—the almost automatic hesitations. The moments when something we’ve longed to do appears within reach and, almost instinctively, we lean away from it.

I’ve been noticing this in myself more than I’d like to admit.

For someone who generally moves through the world with a pretty optimistic lens, I’ve been surprised to realize that, in certain moments, my subconscious has leaned toward no rather than a full-body yes.

Sure, life has been life-ing. Schedules fill. Responsibilities stack. Timing isn’t always perfect. There is always a reason not to do something.

But if I’m being honest, some of my hesitations weren’t really about timing at all.

Some of them were shaped by what others expected of me.
What felt responsible.
What seemed practical.
What fit neatly into the version of me people had grown accustomed to.

And for a while, I let that influence my choices.

But what a valuable realization that has been. Because now I know. And once you see it, you can’t really unsee it.

Now there’s an awareness that wasn’t there before—a quiet understanding that the life we want doesn’t always arrive with perfect timing or unanimous approval. Sometimes it simply shows up as a pull. A curiosity. Something that feels exciting or expansive or just a little bit different.

And when that happens, the choice is ours.

Not later.
Not when everyone else is ready.
Not when it’s convenient for the room.

Now.

This idea of becoming has been sitting with me lately. Not becoming someone new, exactly—but becoming more honest with the parts of myself that have been asking for attention all along. Leaning into the yes.

Sometimes it’s something small: saying yes to the spontaneous dinner, the long walk, the class you’ve been talking about for months but haven’t booked.

Sometimes it’s bigger: a trip, a creative project, a conversation you’ve been avoiding, a risk that feels slightly out of character.

But in both cases, the principle is the same. You always have the option to find the yes. When you do, something shifts. Not in a dramatic, cinematic way—but in the quieter, more meaningful way where your life begins to feel more aligned with the things that genuinely light you up. The domino effect of your life begins to take shape.

The truth is, no one else can give you that permission.

And the beautiful part? You don’t need it ;)

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Things That Made My Heartbeat

A homemade savory oatmeal bowl that completely hit.
I’ve been experimenting with savory oats using the Qi’a grains blend, and one bowl this week felt like a small masterpiece. A 7 minute, 45 second egg (timing matters), a generous spoon of cottage cheese, walnut butter, heirloom pumpkin seeds, kiwi, blueberries, cacao nibs, cinnamon, and a touch of coarse salt. Random, but trust.

Richard Serra at MoMA.
A reminder that scale and simplicity can coexist in a way that stops you in your tracks.

Sophie Bille Brahe
She’s long been one of my favorite jewelers. The mix of refined and casual is exactly the kind of balance I’m always drawn to.

Knead Love Bakery’s new black rice baguette.
A solid 10/10. One of those breads that reminds you how good simple things can be when they’re done exceptionally well.

Nature Nate’s popped sorghum.
The avocado oil and sea salt version is dangerously good.

Baskets as a purse.
Channeling the timeless style of Jane Birkin—slightly impractical, entirely charming.

Longer days and the return of evening light.
That moment when you glance at the clock and realize it’s still bright outside.

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As I’ve been thinking about this idea of leaning into yes, I’ve also been reminded that the answer doesn’t always come from the mind first. More often, it shows up in the body.

A small hesitation. A little soreness that lingers longer than expected. A wave of fatigue that reminds you you’ve been moving a bit too quickly. Those subtle pings of inflammation or discomfort that gently nudge you to pause and check in.

For a long time, I brushed past those signals. I treated them like something to push through instead of something to listen to. But lately, I’ve been reminded just how connected it all really is—the body, the gut, intuition. They’re constantly communicating with us if we’re willing to slow down enough to hear what they’re saying.

Sometimes the message is to say yes. Other times, the message is to slow down.

To move a little more gently. To add in more restorative movement.
To take a breath before reacting. To choose the pace that allows you to stay present inside your own life.

Everything moves in cycles and seasons. Our energy does too.

The more I pay attention, the more I see that becoming isn’t about forcing or chasing anything forward. It’s about listening, adjusting, and trusting that inner compass when it quietly points you in a new direction.

And maybe that’s really what leaning yes is about—learning when to move forward, and when to simply soften into the moment you’re already in.

Thank you for being here!!! Starting a ShopMy account in the coming weeks. Stay tuned xx

-Shipper

Taking a pause in the midst of momentum might be the secret sauce.

Everyone is talking about rest and reset right now. It’s not exactly groundbreaking. We all know we need it. We all say we’ll do it. But there’s something different about choosing to step away when things are actually working. When momentum is building. When the grind feels justified.

That’s the moment that requires the most trust.

This has been, without question, the coldest winter I’ve ever experienced in New York City. The kind of cold that makes you question your life choices while walking down Hudson. I still love living here deeply — that hasn’t changed — but I’ve always known that without intentional breaks woven into the rhythm of the city, it can become a lot.

And if I’m honest, I hadn’t really taken one since August.

A few day trips to New Jersey to see family, yes. But nothing that brought me heated sunshine.

So I booked a trip to Miami — what a gift that was.

I synced up with family who were visiting at the same time, and the days were filled with great food, long walks, ocean waves, sun on skin, and the kind of exploring that reminds you life is bigger than your inbox. There was laughter. There was slowness. There was space.

In past versions of myself, I would have tightly scheduled workout classes every morning. I would have filled every hour to justify being away. This time, I refused. I took one reformer Pilates class at Reforming Pilates since they are opening in Flatiron in April. I had acupuncture with one of the best humans I know — Dr. Nathalie Cabrera — who I’ve been friends with for eight years now, since we both lived in LA and she had her practice there. The rest of the time, I let the days breathe.

I worked when I needed to. I unplugged when I didn’t.

The old me would have worried about losing momentum in another location. But I’m happy to report the opposite happened. The space enhanced it.

Perspective returned.

I was reminded of something I learned years ago about composition — that negative space is not empty. It’s intentional. It allows what matters to stand out. It gives shape to the whole.

The pause is not the absence of progress.
It’s what makes the progress visible.

Gifting myself a few days away has given back tenfold. I came home clearer. Grateful. Energized in a way that grind alone cannot produce.

Sometimes the bravest thing you can do in the middle of building is to step back long enough to see what you’re actually building.

And then return to it — stronger.

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Things That Make My Heartbeat

nyc<>miami edition.

French tulips from Alaric Flowers.
Walking into my apartment post-flight to French tulips waiting at the door — thanks to my dad — nearly did me in. Thoughtfulness in the most elegant form.

Dr. Nathalie Cabrera Acupuncture.
I thought I was going for maintenance. I left realigned, shoulders dropped, and hips recalibrated. Her cupping alone is worth the appointment. If you’re in Miami Beach — just go.

Facade Miami.
Farm-fresh, perfectly edited menu, divine coffee, beautiful space. The kind of place that makes you reconsider your entire morning routine.

Mandolin Aegean Bistro.
Perfect restaurant. Always transports me to Greece. The homemade frozen Greek yogurt with walnuts and Greek honey? Chef’s kiss.

Maui Nui Venison sticks.
Finally tried them (thank you, Grove Grocer). The hype is real. Clean, satisfying, protein-forward without feeling intense.

The perfect leopard coat by Khaite.
Structured, chic, and wild. On the vision board.

Grace’s canned coconut water from La Sandwicherie.
Simple and by far the best tasting coconut water I have ever had.

SunLife Organics — Mystic Smoothie.
SunLife in a warm climate hits differently. A classic.

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Currently Watching

• Tell Me Lies — chaotic, addictive, slightly triggering.

• The Pitt — intense and human.

• Shrinking — warm, sharp, and emotionally intelligent.

• Love Story: John F. Kennedy Jr. & Carolyn Bessette — pure nostalgia. I am SO HOOKED.

• The Last Thing He Told Me — season 2 is back.

What are you watching and loving??

The Loudness of a Whisper

When I was in high school, we took a field trip into the city and ended up at Grand Central. The space that mesmerized me most wasn’t the main concourse — it was the whispering corner.

The architecture was designed so that someone could stand in one corner and murmur into the wall, and the person across the way could hear it clearly. It was said the mob used it to pass secrets. I thought it was the coolest thing I had ever heard. Every time I walk through it now, I still feel like a spy.

I think about that space often.

There’s a quote circulating lately: “Surround yourself with people who would mention your name in a room full of opportunities.”

Sometimes it starts as a whisper. A quiet recommendation. A soft “you should talk to her.” A name spoken gently, without fanfare.

But whispers travel.

And when you surround yourself with people who believe in you — who advocate for you when you’re not in the room — the whisper grows louder. It carries. It echoes. It lands exactly where it’s meant to.

Momentum isn’t always built through noise. Sometimes it’s built through steady belief.

It all comes back around. And we owe it to the people in our lives to keep saying the right names, in the right rooms, for the right opportunities.

You never know which whisper will change the course of everything.

Thanks for being here,

Shipper

The last two years, in particular, have stretched me. Personally, professionally, emotionally. Building my business while simultaneously experiencing rapid personal growth forced me beyond the boundary lines I had quietly drawn for myself. Lines around comfort. Around vulnerability. Around what I thought was possible at this stage of my life.

I surprised myself.

What once looked like “networking” slowly transformed into something much more meaningful: like-minded community. The performative fell away. The transactional lost its appeal. What remained were people who felt familiar, even when they were new. People who saw me clearly—and let me see them too.

I’ve learned that intuition isn’t optional. Gut feelings don’t whisper forever. The energy you give and the energy you receive is very real, and being truly seen by the people in your life is one of the greatest gifts there is.

Everything ebbs and flows—friendships included. But when you find those sweet spots of alignment, and when you decide that peace is the only acceptable outcome, life gets surprisingly good. Lighter. More playful. More expansive. You make room for wonder. For discovery. For fun.

I’ve cultivated some newer, faster friendships recently that I feel endless gratitude for. They’re stripped down, honest, and deeply understanding. For a long time, the idea of making new friends at this stage of my life felt daunting—borderline impossible. But I’m here to tell you: it’s not only possible, it can be beautiful.

The best part? Just like any relationship—romantic or otherwise—when you truly know yourself, you show up differently. More authentically. More generously. More at ease. For yourself, and for others.

There’s been so much excitement in building something of my own, but none of it exists in a vacuum. I couldn’t do it without the people in my life. Sometimes it’s not the advice or the solutions—it’s a really good conversation. A shared laugh. A moment of vulnerability (which, if I’m honest, doesn’t always come easily to me). Those moments have the power to change the course of everything.

And to the relationships that are no longer: I’m just as thankful for those, too. They reflected back lessons I needed to learn. They taught me more than I realized at the time. They were there for a season—and for a reason—and that matters.

This is my love letter. To the ones who’ve been here for years. To the ones who arrived right on time. And to the ones who helped shape me, even if our paths no longer run side by side.

Here’s to friendship—in all its forms—and to continuing to make space for the people who see us clearly, walk beside us honestly, and remind us who we are becoming.

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Things That Make My Heartbeat

Raku soups.
As I write this, my weather app says 2 degrees, feels like -12. Do yourself a favor and No notes.

Tifosi sunglasses.
So fun, light as a feather, and surprisingly chic via . I may or may not be convincing myself I need another color.

Waldorf Astoria New York.
A true walk back in time. Jaw-droppingly stunning. If you haven’t stepped inside recently, it’s worth a trip uptown.

Or’esh opening this week.
Mediterranean perfection. Run, don’t walk.

SAINT.
Private sauna and cold plunge, thoughtfully designed and still brand new. A real treat for the nervous system—and the aesthetic sensibilities.

Violet Grey — Filament TS.02/TT Hair Mask.
I don’t understand the sorcery behind this product, but trust. Recommended by and - IYKYK. Glossy, revived, main-character hair energy.

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I came across an excerpt of Mel Robbins on the We Met at Acme podcast, where she talks about how change—real change—can make people uncomfortable. The example she shared was when her husband decided to stop drinking, and how that choice often forces others to look at their own habits, their own decisions. That moment of reflection isn’t always easy, and sometimes it changes the course of a relationship.

But the truth is: that discomfort is clarifying.

When you choose what’s aligned, you stop wasting time in places that no longer fit. Once you know, you can’t unknow. And while it may shift who walks beside you, it makes room for relationships that feel more honest, more grounded, more you.

If it makes you feel good in your body, in your gut, in your life—it’s the right thing.

Thank you for being here and please share this where and whenever you can.

x Shipper

Not the loud, obvious stuff—the things that look impressive on paper or make sense to other people. I mean the subtle pull. The moments that give you energy instead of taking it. The things you find yourself returning to, even when no one is watching.

There’s something deeply brave about paying attention to those signals. Even braver to act on them.

I’ve learned that when you do, it changes everything—your work, your relationships, your sense of time, even the way your days feel. The shifts can be large or almost imperceptibly small, but they ripple. Always.

Recently, I was listening to James Clear as a guest on Aspire, and something he said stopped me in my tracks. He talked about working back from the magic.

Not the practical plan. Not the cautious version. The magic.

It immediately made me think of that question that’s been floating around lately:
What if everything worked out?

Not in a naïve way. In a grounded, intentional way. What if you allowed yourself to imagine the most incredible possible outcome—not as fantasy, but as a compass?

What would that version of your life look like?
How would you spend your mornings?
What would you say yes to? What would quietly fall away?

And then—this is the key—what if you worked backward from there?

Not all at once. Not dramatically. But with consistency. With nourishment. With devotion to the things that light you up, again and again.

I’ve seen this play out in my own life. When I honor what energizes me—conversations, creating, gathering people, building experiences with intention—everything else starts to reorganize itself around that truth. Opportunities feel clearer. Decisions feel less heavy. There’s less forcing.

The magic, I’ve learned, isn’t an arrival point. It’s something you build by tending to the right things consistently.

When you nourish what lights you up, you’re not just chasing joy—you’re creating conditions for alignment. And alignment changes everything.

So maybe the question isn’t what should I do next?
Maybe it’s: what already makes me feel most alive—and how can I protect and feed that?

Work back from the magic. See what unfolds.

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Things That Make My Heartbeat

Fancy sails on sailboats.
I’ve been daydreaming about being out on the water lately—billowing sails, with timeless nautical elegance. There’s something about the aesthetic that gets me every time. Classic &Romantic.

Honey Mama’s – Thin Mint flavor.
Beyond & Nostalgic.

Birdies Frozen Yogurt.
Just opened in the West Village and immediately earned a repeat visit. I went mid-day on Friday after a great call (the best kind of reward), and it did not disappoint. Tart twist with vegan chocolate—elite. And they automatically put toppings on the bottom and the top. The only way.

Mel Brooks: The 99 Year Old Man!
Watching this felt like a warm wave of nostalgia. So much appreciation for his brilliance and impact that shaped comedy, culture, and storytelling. Funny, sharp, deeply human—and a reminder that creative longevity is its own kind of magic.

Fendi – make-your-own baguette moment.
I stumbled upon this and thought it was brilliant. Playful, iconic, unexpected—fashion doing what it does best when it doesn’t take itself too seriously.

Tin fish + hard-boiled egg breakfast bowls.
A current go-to. Simple, nourishing, satisfying. Protein, good fats, zero fuss. Checks every box and makes mornings feel intentional.

Tin snacks & special packaging.
I’m a sucker for beautiful, unique packaging.

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The Art of Connection

Lately, when so much feels loud and heavy, I’ve been thinking about the power of small interactions.

Kindness can feel simple—almost invisible—but it shows up in a thousand quiet ways. You never really know what someone else is carrying, and most of us are absorbing more of the world than we realize.

Small gestures matter. They soften days, shift energy, and create connection where we might not expect it. Tiny moments. Real impact.

Thank you for being here,

Shipper

No packed calendar.
No rushing.
No grand plans.

My manifestor self—accustomed to momentum, initiation, movement—was gently but firmly placed into rest mode. Not the curated kind. The real kind. The kind I don’t think I ever would have chosen for myself at that depth. And thank goodness I didn’t have to.

With the stillness came time. A lot of it. Time that felt both honoring and, at moments, deeply restless. Time that allowed things I had quietly compartmentalized—neatly, efficiently—to rise to the surface without asking permission.

I won’t pretend it was graceful.

Some of it was uncomfortable. Some of it arrived at inconvenient moments. There were days where I would have preferred distraction, productivity, or literally anything else. But the truth is: I was forced to feel it. And because of that, I was forced to deal with it.

There’s something profoundly clarifying about sitting with discomfort when you’re no longer trying to optimize your way out of it.

What became clear—again, but more softly this time—is that a peaceful, beautiful life matters more to me than being right, polished, or emotionally protected. Peace trumped the upset. Presence outweighed perfectionism.

So I confronted what needed confronting.
I named what needed naming.
I made space where there had been quiet resistance.

And on the other side of that discomfort—without fireworks, without a dramatic turning point—I found peace. Not permanent, not loud, but real. The kind that creates room. The kind that allows new energy and joy to enter without force.

This is a lesson I’ve learned before, in different iterations, different seasons, different forms. But it’s arriving a little faster these days. With less friction. With more compassion.

For that, I’m deeply grateful.

Prioritizing peace and presence in the now has become an anchor as I step into this new year. It informs how I work, how I rest, how I choose, how I show up. Presence, I’m learning, is not passive. It’s an active, daily decision to choose peace over performance.

And maybe that’s the most radical kind of intention there is.

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Things That Make My Heartbeat

The Ruth Asawa exhibition at Museum of Modern Art
Featuring over 300 works across mediums, this exhibition is not just a show—it’s an experience. Her hand, her patience, her devotion to form and process. Truly stunning, deeply special, and absolutely not to be missed.

AgrecoFarms Greek olive oil
That unmistakable hot-pink bottle. I just used the very last drop of the one I brought back from Greece, and I already miss it. I’m fairly certain Carissa’s Bakery carries it stateside.

Croft Alley
The entire menu is a 10/10, no notes—but the chopped salad with steak is my forever order. Crisp, hearty, perfectly balanced. Comforting without trying too hard.

Still Here Sport Jean
They can truly do no wrong. I love all of their silhouettes, but the sport jean in khaki is bringing me an unreasonable amount of joy right now.

J.Crew’s U.S. Ski collection styling
Another win from Olympia Gayot. The styling alone is chef’s kiss—nostalgic, fresh, and perfectly layered.

Batched Cucumber Salad
I saw a version of this on Instagram and immediately adopted it into my daily life. Simple, refreshing, endlessly versatile. I’ve been adding it to everything—breakfast, lunch, dinner.
Diced cucumber, fresh dill, salt, pepper, olive oil, a dash of white vinegar. That’s it. Easy. Perfect.

Also, this:

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I came across this passage from @ebbandflowpoetry and it felt especially relevant. A reminder that the energy we allow in—through people, places, and patterns—shapes how we experience our lives.

I’m working each and every day to be more intentional about choosing presence over perfection and protecting peace wherever I can. Asking myself how I want to feel, and letting that guide my decisions, has made all the difference. And most of all giving myself GRACE for when it’s not so easy and doesn’t turn out how I had hoped.

Peace, above all else.

Thank you for being here,

x Shipper

This is new for me.

Historically, the new year has arrived with a long list of fixes. Big declarations. Total overhauls. A mental sweep of everything that felt unfinished, imperfect, or behind schedule. The intention was good, but the result was often overwhelm — and ironically, very little lasting change.

This year feels different.
Not louder. Not more ambitious. Just… clearer.

What I’ve learned — slowly, patiently, sometimes stubbornly — is that the things that actually move my life forward aren’t dramatic. They’re consistent. They’re unglamorous. They work because I keep showing up for them. I keep showing up for myself.

Instead of asking “What needs to change?”
I’m asking “What’s working — and how can it work even better?”

That shift alone feels like a win.

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Small Things That Add Up to Big Things:

Here’s what I’m carrying with me into the new year — not as rules, but as anchors:

• Drink more water

• Meditate — even if it’s just a few minutes

• Smile more, on purpose

• Move my body

• Read more. Study what interests me

• Listen & Pause

• Make the people in your life feel SEEN.

• Stretch and breathe

• Eat well

• Nourishment

• Work hard, without burning out

• Take long showers

• Sleep more

• Don’t overthink

• Stay curious. Keep learning

• Dream bigger, but stay grounded

• Take the damn trip

• Journal

• Complain less

• Be kinder to myself

• Lead with love and positivity

• Experience the only life I have.

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Things That Make My Heartbeat

Curating My Digital Space
Unfollowing accounts that no longer serve my mindset or feel aligned. Our needs change, our perspectives shift — and our feeds should evolve with us.

Coffee + Manukora Raw Manuka Honey
A simple upgrade I’m loving. The heat of the coffee gently melts the honey, adding both health benefits and a subtle richness that completely elevates my morning cup. They come in individual sachets.

Emma Grede’s Aspire Podcast
I’ve mentioned her podcast before, but it’s worth repeating. Her most recent episode, How to Build a Powerful Network, is absolute gold — practical, honest, and worth the listen.

Vintage Windbreakers
The favorite list on my Etsy is currently filling up with sailing inspired vintage windbreakers. I’m lusting and loving, but haven’t committed just yet.

Commerce Inn for Lunch
No notes. Go with friends and order EVERYTHING.

What I’m Watching (Because This Week Is Endless)
The quiet stretch between Christmas and New Year deserves good content:

• Marty Supreme — lived up to the hype. A24 can do no wrong.

• I Love L.A. — fun and easy

• Landman — finally started it, and I get it now

• Elway (Netflix) — incredibly well done and deeply compelling

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Looking Ahead

As I close out this final post of the year, I want to thank the people in my life who encouraged me to begin this Substack in the first place. I hesitated longer than I’m willing to admit — caught in the familiar loop of wanting to get it just right. Starting imperfectly felt uncomfortable.

What I didn’t expect was how many lessons would come from simply beginning. This space has reminded me that you don’t need clarity before you start — clarity comes from starting. Things take shape as you move, evolve as you stay consistent, and grow in ways you can’t plan for. I can say the same for Ancora as well.

Like magic, I’m entering this next year not with a checklist, but with confidence — earned slowly through repetition and patience. The kind that comes from knowing something works because you’ve lived it.

No overhaul.
Just an upgrade.

If you’re closing out the year feeling similar — I hope this reminds you that small things done consistently are more powerful than any grand reset.

Thanks for being here,

Shipper

This morning, I woke up with that rare but remarkable feeling — the awareness of what I get to do, instead of what I have to do. That small shift, that quiet swiveling of perspective, has become something I return to again and again. It’s gratitude, but gentler. Gratitude 2.0. A way of reframing discomfort, slowing my system, and finding delight tucked in the most ordinary corners of the day.

And today, the ordinary felt cinematic.

It’s the first snow-filled morning in the West Village — the good kind, the kind that makes the world feel hushed and enchanted. I stepped outside and it felt like walking onto a movie set. The flurries caught the glow of the Christmas lights sprawled across the brownstones, and without thinking, I found myself whispering, I’m so lucky I get to live here.

That sentence — I get to — has followed me everywhere lately. Into my work, my friendships, my creativity, my rest. It softens edges that used to feel sharp- It allows room for joy.

The Nine-Year Chapter

Everyone is talking about this being a nine-year cycle closing — the year of the snake, the shedding, the release — moving into the year of the horse, the rise, the stretch, the expansion. The beginning of something new. For me, it holds a simultaneous symmetry; It has been nine years since my mom passed.

There’s something mystical about the way time folds into itself, how chapters close whether or not we feel ready. What I know now — and what I continue to learn through her absence, her presence, her legacy — is that life is less about forcing clarity and more about trusting the unfolding.

My mom left me with so much magic, but it didn’t arrive neatly wrapped. It showed up more like the way my necklaces tangle endlessly in my jewelry case — a giant knot of delicate chains. A mess that feels impossible until suddenly…it loosens.

Grief taught me that it’s okay to be deeply passionate about so many things at once, to want to live every version of your life in the short amount of time we get here. It’s okay to love many people, and to realize some relationships have seasons — each one revealing something true about who you are and what you need.

It’s okay that some things take time. It’s okay not to rush your becoming.

I’ve learned to stop gripping the plan and start trusting that the path is already written — that my only job is to show up with curiosity and courage, and to surrender the rest.

The Shedding & The Rising

This year of the snake has been exactly that: a shedding. Layers falling away. The parts of ourselves we’ve outgrown cracking open to make space for the ones we’re ready to meet. And I’m seeing it everywhere — not just in myself. In friends. Colleagues. Strangers. So many of us letting go, clearing out, making room.

What’s on the other side feels like a quiet promise: joy, confidence, trust in our own rhythm. A return to the things that make our hearts beat. A willingness to begin again — not by force, but by invitation.

A New Cycle Begins

So here we are, stepping into this next chapter — the year of the horse, the rise, the expansion. A cycle that asks us to move with intention, with power, with a bit of wildness in our stride. And maybe the real shift starts in the smallest moment:

A snowy morning in the West Village.
A whisper of I get to.
A reminder that joy is allowed to arrive quietly and often.

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Things That Make My Heartbeat

There have been so many holiday pop-ups lately. Where have you been going?! Here are the thigs I have distilled down this week:

Galerie Sardine Pop-Up, East Village
A tiny, tucked-away space that feels like a whisper. The artists’ work featured is so meticulous, so layered, it makes you stop and take a triple take. A quiet, mesmerizing little world.

Ripe Persimmons
At their peak right now. Nature’s dessert in its most perfect form.

Curly Treviso Endive
One of my faves - bitter, elegant, dramatic. Winter produce at its most poetic.

The J.Crew Takeover at the Central Park Boathouse
A Christmas wonderland tucked inside one of the city’s most iconic spaces. Festive, nostalgic, and impossibly charming — an idyllic holiday scene come to life.

Sotheby’s at the Breuer
Standing inches away from masterpieces I’ve only ever seen online or in books. Mind-blowing, humbling, and so deeply special to see in person.

Omen Azen
A local favorite that just hits every time. Cozy & Consistent.

Westville’s Health Tea
Orange, mint, cinnamon stick, ginger, lemon hot water — iykyk. Don’t sleep on it.

Knead Love Bakery’s New Buckwheat Sourdough
Nutty, hearty, wildly aromatic — the kind of loaf you plan your entire breakfast around. A winter staple in the making.

Aunu Manuka Honey Cleanser
Cant wait to try this one, especially with the gleaming, glowing recommendation from Elizabeth Grace Hand of Stalle Studios — If she loves it, it’s already iconic and works.

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Lastly…

As this year winds down, I keep thinking about what it means to let go of what’s heavy and make space for what’s next. This nine-year cycle closing — the shedding, the releasing — has shown me that the rising doesn’t have to be dramatic. Something I have certainly mentioned before but bears repeating- It can be small, steady shifts such as choosing joy, noticing beauty, and remembering what we get to do. If you’re in a season of figuring out your next steps, I offer discovery calls and strategy sessions, both of which can be booked directly through my website (tell your friends).

Additionally, if you’re looking for a moment to reset before the new year, my dear friend Nadia is teaching her last breathwork class of the year at Live The Process on December 18th. It’s a great way to clear the clutter and step into the next chapter lighter.

Thank you for being here,

Shipper

So much has changed. Maybe I have, too.

And yet… maybe change doesn’t mean losing the traditions that shaped me.
Maybe it means evolving them.
Tradition 2.0.

For so long I believed traditions had to stay exactly as they were or the meaning would evaporate. But life expands, relationships shift, and resistance shows up in the cracks—where you want things to stay the same but know they can’t.

What I’m learning now:
Traditions don’t break when life changes. They stretch. They inform the next version of us, the next version of the season.

This time of year is always tender for me. Just on the cusp of nine years since my mom passed, and the holidays carry that quiet echo. But instead of avoiding it, I’ve built my own small ritual:

I fill my apartment with coral-colored tulips—the exact shade she loved.
I buy them from the corner bodega across from Abingdon Square, who sets up flowers like they are filming a movie every single morning. And every time they tilt and droop over the edge of the vase in that effortlessly chic way… it feels like a little wink from her. A reminder that traditions aren’t only inherited—they can be created, reimagined, and carried forward in the smallest gestures.

Maybe that’s the real heart of tradition: continuity, not carbon-copying.

This year, instead of clinging to how things used to be, I’m considering:

Maybe it’s a turkey that cooks faster and tastes different (still delicious).
Maybe it’s tulips in winter.
Maybe it’s simply the grace to let tradition grow alongside me.

As we head into December, I’m choosing to honor what shaped me and leave space for what comes next.

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Things That Made My Heartbeat

Black Friday came early and hard this year, and honestly? I took it as permission to re-up on my supplement lineup.

• Alexis Smart Flower Remedies

Unburden has quietly been my emotional support hero for a few rounds now, and I finally added the Expanded version to the mix. You’re meant to use one formula at a time, but they’ve become a staple in my rotation—gentle, grounding, and weirdly spot-on. I also go alcohol free.

• Lineage Provisions Nose-to-Tail Collagen
The most unpretentious, nutrient-dense collagen I’ve found. Clean and actually effective.

• Kion Omega-3
High-quality, no fishy anything, and I notice a difference when I’m consistent. I used to feel sick from Omegas, but these are excellent. Simple as that.

• ME+EM Blazers (and, frankly, everything)
This brand is having a moment for me. The fits are unbelievable—sharp without being try-hard, elevated without being stiff. Currently lusting over the velvet pinstripe blazer.

• Frönen Chocolate Dairy-Free Dessert
Four ingredients, sweetened with honey, and tastes like something you’d get at a boutique gelato spot. The mint chip is another favorite—I top mine with cacao nibs when I want something indulgent without going full dairy spiral.

• Red Puma Speedcat Sneaker
I wanted a fun color pop without a luxury price tag, and these over-delivered. Iconic, lightweight, and comfortable right out of the box. A classic for a reason.

• The Sourdough Project Whole Wheat Crackers
They had me at Texas-grown whole grain wheat. Perfectly simple.

• The Long Waterproof SuperPuff
I’ve lived in the city since 2007 and somehow never nailed the winter-coat situation… until now. Everyone talks about how warm this coat is, and I can confirm: it lives up to the hype. With a snowy winter on the horizon, I’m leaning fully into technical warmth and real utility. I got the grey which they had in store. 10/10, no notes.

• H-O-R-S-E Sport Polo Fleece Sweatshirt & Track Pants (Navy)
Quite simply: the set. The perfect navy, incredible quality, and that elevated-athleisure silhouette that feels equally suited for errands, travel days, or cozying up at home. The fleece is warm without being bulky, the track pants drape just right, and the whole vibe says “quiet luxury, but make it actually comfortable.” Amazing comfort. Amazing quality. A new uniform.

• Dorsey Maxwell Earrings (Medium)
In love. Truly. The perfect dose of everyday sparkle—elevated but wearable, refined but still fun. They strike that impossible balance between statement and subtlety, and I haven’t taken them off since they arrived. A forever piece.

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The Art of Connection

• Connect With the Body
There’s something powerful about grounding back into the physical this time of year. I cannot recommend lymphatic massage enough—if you can indulge in a practitioner, do it. (Mine is truly an angel from the heavens.) But there are also simple morning practices you can do yourself to drain the system, move stagnant fluid, and clear the fog. It’s subtle but transformative.

• Connect With Community
Holiday season or “Q4,” depending on who you talk to, can easily become a blur of rescheduled calls, postponed coffees, and “let’s circle back in January.” But remember: there’s someone on the other side of that calendar shift. Someone who carved out time, someone juggling just as much as you. Be mindful with your time and gentle with theirs. The smallest acts of respect and presence become their own form of connection—especially when everyone is stretched thin.

• Connect Beyond Your Comfort Zone
We all have our go-to content, but every so often it’s worth reaching for something completely outside it. Read, watch, or listen to something unexpected—something that doesn’t fit your daily pattern at all. I recently listened to Professor Scott Galloway on The School of Greatness with Lewis Howes—specifically the episode titled “Why 63% of Young Men Have Stopped Trying.” Fascinating and wildly relevant.

I love a comfort zone, but there’s not actually that much comfort in staying there.

Thanks for being here,

Shipper

And in weeks like this, the old airplane saying—apply your oxygen mask first before assisting others—stops being metaphorical and becomes very, very literal.

I learned this lesson years ago when I worked in an office, surrounded by indulgent office snacks and late nights, desperately trying to stay even somewhat healthy. I realized that the more organized and prepared I was, the more likely I was to actually take care of myself. Not perfectly. Just realistically.

So heading into this sprint, I decided to support Future Me with every tool I had. Here’s what that actually looked like:

Rituals as Anchors

My morning meditation and my coffee walk to Blackstone were non-negotiables. Even on the wildest days, those ten quiet minutes reminded me that I’m a person before I’m a producer.

Workouts As Meetings with Myself

I scheduled my workout classes the same way I schedule client meetings. When it’s on the calendar, it’s not optional—it’s a promise. A meeting with myself I’m not allowed to cancel.

Hydration (Imperfect, Honest, Still Trying)

My water concoction from last week’s post made its return, but did I hydrate consistently? Not really. But I kept trying. And sometimes that’s enough.

Food As Fuel

When I ate, it was nourishing and abundant—protein, greens, color—enough to sustain me through 14-hour production days.

Post-Event Reset

I also booked a facial with the magical Cara Peloso and a lymphatic drainage session for after the events—future anchors to help my body recalibrate after the chaos.

And now that the dust has settled, I’ve spent this weekend quietly reorganizing my world. Reprioritizing other projects. Simplifying. Injecting my days with the things that refill my tank: nature and art. I let myself be a tourist in my own city—my first Knicks game, Roberta’s pizza, a few pop-ups, long walks through Central Park. Tiny resets disguised as activities.

Because taking care of myself isn’t one big gesture—it’s a hundred tiny ones.

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Things That Make My Heartbeat

(Tiny joys, big energy, and the magic of saying yes.)

Pop-ups, long walks, and doing things entirely on a whim. Because truly—why live in New York if you’re not going to actually go out and experience it? This city rewards curiosity. It rewards saying yes.

SoHo Pop-Ups & a Basic.Space Discovery Walk:

I wandered downtown this weekend with no agenda except to follow whatever caught my eye—my favorite way to explore. I popped into the Go-To x Shopify pop up and the must see Basic.Space pop-up, which felt like a blend of emerging brand energy and beautifully curated cool. These spontaneous little detours are the reason I adore this city—you turn one corner and suddenly you’re inspired again.

Le Rock × Le Bistrot Paul Bert:

One of the highlights of the week: the Le Rock × Le Bistrot Paul Bert pop-up. Yes, it was a pop-up, but Le Rock’s hospitality is consistently next-level. And because it sits in the center of Rockefeller Center, where Christmas décor has just begun to creep in, the whole thing felt nostalgic and almost movie-like. No matter how many years I’ve lived here, that early sparkle still gets me.

Levy Gorvy Dayan – Uptown Downtown: The 80s:

On the Upper East Side, I made a point to hit Levy Gorvy Dayan for the “Uptown Downtown of the 80s” exhibit and was completely transported. The energy, the color, the unpolished glamour of that era—everything felt alive.

Kroma Wellness Cranberry Hydrator (Finally Back!):

A highly important announcement: my beloved Kroma Cranberry Hydrator electrolyte is finally back in stock. It remains the holy grail of hydration for Type A weeks when drinking water feels aspirational.

Farm-Fresh Eggs from Norwich Meadows Farm:

Farm-fresh eggs from the Greenmarket always feel indulgent, but really it’s just how food is supposed to be. I grabbed a dozen from Norwich Meadows Farm this weekend and swear breakfast tastes different when it’s this connected to the source.

The Ralph Lauren Mansion on Madison:

Stepping into the Ralph Lauren Mansion brought me right back to my 2009 internship with Ralph Lauren Women’s Collection—one of the most formative chapters of my early career. That building is the pinnacle of storytelling. Every room is a world unto itself. And yes, I absolutely tried on the $1,000 belt buckle that immediately became my entire personality.

New York Sunsets:

And finally—the sunsets that stop me in my tracks. I will never have enough photos of them. Not possible.

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The Art of Connection

A cosmic conversation with my mother

There are moments in my work where I feel like something bigger is guiding my hands—some creative force that isn’t entirely mine. I felt that profoundly this week.

In the middle of an install for a wedding reception—building an abundant entryway of apple crates and pears—I suddenly realized I was channeling someone I’ve missed for a long time: my mother.

She was an extraordinary human and artist. She could do murals, centerpieces, custom takeaways—truly anything. There was nothing she couldn’t make beautiful. Growing up with that as the baseline made me believe that nothing was impossible, that creativity could solve almost anything.

I haven’t felt this connection as profoundly in quite some time until I was knee-deep in pears and crates, obsessing over placement and balance and abundance. And suddenly, it hit me: This is exactly what she would have done. This is exactly how she would have done it.

In those moments, I felt her with me—cosmically close. As if her hands were moving through mine, nudging me gently toward the right arrangement, the right idea, the right feeling.

How lucky am I to feel her artistry echoing through the work I get to do?

Sometimes connection isn’t loud. Sometimes it’s not even intentional. Sometimes it’s you, in the middle of an install, realizing you’re not doing it alone.

Thanks for being here,

Shipper

Growth looks different for everyone, every day.

Sometimes it’s the quiet inch forward, not the mile. And lately, I’ve been so aware—and honestly thrilled—to feel that inch of movement. It’s small, but it’s mine. It’s the shift that moves me closer to the thing—whatever that thing may be—in business, in healing, in love.

This week, that growth looks like patience.
Not always my strongest suit, but I’ve seen the bounty that comes when I practice it. It’s deeply uncomfortable—requiring an honest look inward and a willingness to slow down, hydrate, catch my breath, and then carry on.

I can’t get caught up in my time or look around to see what everyone else is doing. I can only keep my eyes on the horizon and trust that I’ll get there—at my pace, in my time—and maybe even arrive better than I planned.

So today, in the spirit of small but steady growth, I’m introducing something new here on Carefree Highway: I Don’t Share My Work Enough.

A section inspired by something I—and almost every creative I know—have said countless times. Self-promotion is hard.

It was hard when I had my womenswear line, Shipper (circa 2015–2018). It was hard when I ran the New York City Marathon in 2016 and fundraised for Fred’s Team. And it was hard when I launched Ancora Creative, my consultancy and studio that brings ideas, experiences, and brands to life.

It’s a muscle—a delicate balance of confidence and humility—that I’m finally learning to build.

So consider this my version of a water break: a pause to look around, breathe, and acknowledge the miles behind me before moving toward what’s next.

Excited to share what I’ve been working on—and to keep inching forward.

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And because balance is everything—growth, patience, and a few small joys to keep the heart rate steady—here’s what’s currently making mine beat a little faster:

Things That Make My Heartbeat

My Morning Supplement Water: I’ve been drinking this every day for over a year now, and the difference I feel is undeniable—enough to stay consistent. The mix: BodyHealth Perfect Aminos (lemon lime), Momentous Creatine, Lineage Provisions Nose-to-Tail Collagen, and most recently, Sunlife Fiber Powder. The lemon lime flavor ties it all together—no grit, just smooth energy—and I whisk it up each morning in my Visp Bottle. Game changer.

Springbone Immunity Broth: Fighting off something with the change of seasons and feeling a little run down. I didn’t have it in me to take my usual ginger shot, and this checked all the boxes—warm, restorative, and exactly what my body was asking for.

Matcha Date Energy Balls from Happier Grocery: Takes the edge off and tastes incredible. I’m a date ball snob, and these pass the test—not too sweet, perfectly chewy, and somehow energizing and grounding at the same time.

Bazaar France x Cindy Crawford: A shoot that unlocked pure nostalgia. Effortless, sexy, strong—peak Cindy. Major style inspo and a reminder that timelessness always wins.

Everything Ghiaia Cashmere by Davide Baroncini: It really does speak for itself. The kind of understated luxury that feels like confidence—heritage meets ease.

The New Belmond Train: Paris to Amalfi: Officially on my vision board. No Notes.

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I Don’t Share My Work Enough:

One area of my current work that I’m excited to share more about is creative producing — the process of taking an idea from concept to tangible experience.

Creative producing lives in the intersection of strategy, design, logistics, and intuition. It’s about turning the spark of an idea into something you can walk through, taste, or feel. It involves procuring materials and vendors, building relationships, working fast and pivoting gracefully, and collaborating with teams to make the intangible real.

Recently, I’ve had the opportunity to collaborate with Conti Communications on client experiences for Me + Em and Vyrao, with Care of Chan and Resy, Wildflower Farms, and even a beautiful wedding at Chelsea Square taking place next week — each project unique, but all connected by a shared through line of creativity, storytelling, and detail.

Something I’ve come to realize is how much I love being a sounding board for others — helping people talk through their ideas and find clarity in the creative process. More often than not, I end up acting as a connector, linking people to the right collaborators to bring their vision to life.

If that sounds like something you or someone you know could use, I offer Discovery Calls and Soundboard Sessions — a space to explore ideas and find the next step forward. Sign up here →

Thanks for being here,

Shipper