skirt! magazine savannah - may 2012

Make a mental map of summer.

Mark it with an off-the-grid cabin at the

end of a gravel road. A towel on a beach

without Wi-Fi. The spiral of a labyrinth on

a spiritual journey for one. A souk filled

with spices and silks in a strange city.

M AYSavannah, GA

Cover copy by Nikki Hardin, art by Ashley Barron

Big black sunglasses

and strappy sandals on the Isle of Capri.

Hiking boots or horseback into the wild.

Sleeping in a tepee under a full moon.

A zip line into a mountain lake or a

cruise line to the Greek Islands. Retail

safaris and urban camping in a hotel with

24-hour room service. The back of beyond

at Burning Man in the Black Rock Desert.

A windows-down, radio-up roadtrip.

Dare it or dream it,

but let your mind wAnder.

“One’s destination is never a place, but a new way of seeing things.”

Henry miller

skirt!isfree!www.skirt.com

2 mayw2012savannah www.skirt.com

Publisher

Nikki Hardin

[email protected]

Art Director

Caitilin McPhillips

[email protected]

National Editor

Margaret Pilarski

[email protected]

Savannah Editor

Elena Fodera

[email protected]

Advertising Director

Jane Townsend

[email protected]

Sales Executives

Cinda Baker

[email protected]

Belinda Draucker

[email protected]

Graphic Designer

Britt Scott

[email protected]

Intern

Emmy Lubitz

Photography

Paul Goerner

Emmy Lubitz

Amy Moore

Office:

912.525.0740

Sales:

912.525.0740

FAX:

912.525.0746

skirt! is all about women...their work, play, families, creativity, style, health and wealth, bodies and souls. skirt! is an attitude...spirited, independent, outspoken, serious, playful and irreverent, sometimes controversial, always passionate.

Calendar SubmiSSionSSend information [email protected], or mail to skirt! Savannah,1375 Chatham ParkwaySavannah, GA 31405

letterS to the editorAll letters must include the writer’s name and city/state.

WriterS & artiStSOur guidelines are available online at skirt.com. Submit artwork or essays via e-mail to [email protected].

FolloW uS on FaCebook and tWitter!Facebook.com/skirtSavannahTwitter.com/skirtSavannah

skirt! is published monthly and distributed free throughout

the greater Savannah area. skirt! reserves the right to refuse to sell space for any

advertisement the staff deems inappropriate for the publication. Unsolicited manuscripts must be accompanied by a self-addressed, stamped envelope. Letters to the editor are welcome, but may be edited due to space limitations.

Press releases must be received by the 1st of the month for the following month’s issue.

All content of this magazine, including without limitation the design, advertisements,

art, photos and editorial content, as well as the selection, coordination and arrangement

thereof, is Copyright © 2012, Morris Publishing Group, LLC. All

Rights Reserved. No portion of this magazine may be copied or

reprinted without the express written permission of the

publisher. SKIRT!® is a registered trademark of Morris Publishing

Group, LLC.

FeatureS

Profile: Heidi Berkely

Fair-Trade Traveler...................................................................... 13

Profile: Cayce Girardeau In Search of Fun.......................................................................... 14

Profile: Julie Jarrell

Born to Ride ................................................................................. 17

Local Loves .................................................................................18

Skirt! Style .................................................................................. 21

Double Decker Dreams

Stacy Appel.................................................................................... 24

To the Other Side

Stephanie Hunt ........................................................................... 26

in every iSSue

Letter from the Publisher/Editor ......................................... 8

Calendar .......................................................................................... 23

He’s So Original .......................................................................... 28

Skirt of the Month..................................................................... 30

Meet................................................................................................... 37

Planet Nikki.................................................................................... 38

The To-Go Issuem

ay

Women make more than 80% of all purchasing

decisions.

Women control 2/3

of the nation’s disposable income.

Women influence 80%of all car sales.

Women spend almost 2 of every 3

healthcare dollars.

www.skirt.com mayw2012savannah 7

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FROM THE PUBLISHER

Elena [email protected]

FROM THE EDITOR

When I was a little girl in Spain, my dad would take us on long road trips across the country—

glistening beaches, mountains covered in olive groves, ancient castles—a child’s fantasy. As we drove,

he’d tell the story of Princess Fatima and her exciting adventures. As she escaped from 40 thieves hiding

in rocky caves, swam to deserted islands and picked golden apples from an old wise man’s shoulders,

I’d watch the passing landscapes, imagining myself as her. Each trip, I’d beg him to pick up where he left

off. I later learned her fabulous story was actually bits and pieces of mythology and folklore, a tale my

dad spun right on the spot. But where it came from never mattered; only where it took me. I’ve since

wondered what draws us to new places. What is it we seek when we leave the life we’re living? More

than new food, new faces, we’re in search of our “true” selves: more relaxed, perhaps more daring, the

self we want to see. For me, it’s an adventurous princess: independent, fearless, kind. Where will you

discover your Fatima?

Nikki [email protected]

1STCLASS

THE UNITED SKIRTS OF AMERICA

The United Skirts of

America was founded

on the blood, sweat

and estrogen of our

foremothers, who

won us the freedom

to choose...to break

The Rules, to wear

combat boots or high

heels, to run for of� ce

or run a marathon,

to form our own

rock groups instead

of being groupies, to

shatter Glass Ceilings

and Glass Slippers, to

shoot hoops instead

of settling for hoop

skirts. The ones who

came before us made

it possible for our

daughters to dream

bigger, to have the

chance to grow up to

be President and turn

the Oval Of� ce into

the Ovary Of� ce. In

the United Skirts of

America, every day is

Independence Day!

COVER ARTIST

Ashley Barron

Ashley is a big fan of paper.

She � nds it, paints it, prints

on it, punches it, cuts it out,

arranges it and pastes it down

to compose everything from

pigeons to postal carriers.

Originally from Whitby,

Ontario, Ashley now lives

in Toronto. She graduated

from OCAD in 2007 with a

Bachelor of Design and has

been working as a freelance

illustrator ever since.

ashleybarron.com

VISIT US ON SKIRT.COM

Last month, I had the chance to hear Billie Jean King talk about her

journey to empower women while she was in Charleston for the Family

Circle Cup tennis tournament. I’m the same age as King, and I was

just discovering feminism when she defeated Bobby Riggs in one of the

greatest moments in sports history—the Battle of the Sexes in 1973. It’s

hard to overstate what that moment meant to women then. Ms. Magazine

had been launched the year before, and it was a stirring, optimistic

time to be a woman simply because change was in the air. All of the

restrictive assumptions I grew up with about a woman’s role were being

blown apart, and my personal journey was simply a microcosm of the

historic one taking place on the national stage. As inspiring as it was to

celebrate the journey of the women who revolutionized women’s tennis,

I doubt I was the only woman to consider the irony of learning that same

week that Augusta National Golf Club had not awarded membership

to Virginia Rometty, the � rst female CEO of IBM, as was customary

for the corporate sponsor of the Masters Tournament. Four of Ms.

Rometty’s predecessors had been admitted during their tenure with the

company, but it was her XX DNA that barred the door this time. It was

a reminder that although we’ve come a long way, baby, the journey is

far from complete. In Congress, women hold less than 17 percent of the

seats—73 of 435 in the House and 17 of 100 in the Senate—and only a

tiny percentage of major American corporations have women CEOs. In

the future, it will be up to our brave daughters and granddaughters to

take a swing at outmoded, exclusionary traditions that are designed to

put us back in our place—a place we left behind decades ago.

The To-Go Issue


Heidi Berkeley | Fair-Trade TravelerFor Heidi Berkeley, traveling is about making connections with the world around you—and not being afraid to step out of your comfort zone.

She and husband, Joe, own the fabulously eccentric shop Folklorico. They focus on offering unique, handmade and fair-trade goods

from around the globe, spotted and gathered up on their many trips abroad. From Morocco to Thailand,

Greece and Turkey to southernmost Mexico, Heidi says sharing experiences with people is the best way to learn about different cultures.

“The more places you travel, the more humble you become,” she tells. “By being friendly and curious, you get a real experience of where you are.

We were invited into a family’s home for tea in Vietnam. On a train in Morocco, a family invited us into their home for dinner that night;

it was a chance to look into their world.” Those interactions, she says, are the greatest treasures.

Photo by Amy Moore

Jetsetters


Cayce Girardeau | In Search of Fun After leaving a corporate job in human resources and twice battling breast cancer, Cayce Girardeau returned

to her hometown of Savannah to try something a little different. “People are creative—they have to use it,” says Cayce,

owner and inventor of Savannah Fun Tours. “You don’t learn much when people talk at you,” she says.

Instead, these unconventional tour guides use original scavenger hunts to challenge players and teach them at the same time.

“You read the clue to figure out what you’re looking for,” Cayce explains. “To me, that’s the best way to learn and

establish team building at the same time.” Everyone from Girl Scouts to bachelorette parties can customize their hunt

to make a tour that’s truly memorable. “You have to have fun. Fast is not part of this game,” Cayce says. In true Savannah style,

she reminds visitors from all over to slow down and appreciate life’s lighter side.

Photo by Paul Goerner

Jetsetters


Julie Jarrell | Born to RideSelf-proclaimed pack mom Julie Jarrell is officer for Ladies of Harley Davidson, part of the Savannah HOG Chapter

of the National Harley Owners Group. Ever since riding her big brother’s bike in high school,

Julie’s love for the road is all about embracing life. She’s organized the chapter’s “Pink Ponytail Rides,”

in which female cyclists ride together, and also won their mileage contest, traveling 12,000 miles in 2010.

“My dad said to me, ‘You can’t be scared to live, because everybody dies one day. You’ve gotta go on,’

and since then it’s been no holds barred,” she laughs. “I know a lot of people, even my age,

who are waiting on something,” says Julie. “No, no, no! Life happens every day! Every morning when you get up.”

And what of fearlessness when dealing with her own motorcycle-riding kids and nine grandchildren?

“I pray a lot,” she says with a smile.

Photo by Emmy Lubitz

Jetsetters


LocalLocalLovesLoves

These eco-chic soy candles, created by Lowcountry native Natalie Evans and headquartered in Savannah, are made from the finest quality materials and come in a range of Southern-inspired scents like High Cotton, Sea Grass and Spanish Moss. Sea Grass and Spanish Moss. lowcountryluxe.com

Lighten Up

Diaper Bag Couture SCAD grad and native of Caracas, Venezuela, Vanessa Boulton creates handbags and accessories using her original illustrations, like this Flying South tote. Available at shop-SCAD or vanessaboulton.com.

A Paw in NeedAfter the generosity of friends and neighbors helped save Julie Nickerson’s rescue dog, Jack, she was inspired. Taking on a new calling, she founded Ruff Life. At home on Hilton Head Island, the ap-parel company donates profparel company donates prof-parel company donates prof-parel company donates profits toward local shelters and its toward local shelters and rescue organizations, helping save the lives of animals and brighten the lives of pet own-ers across the Lowcountry.

To visit the store or make a donation to Ruff Life Charities, visit rufflife.org.

SCAD grad and native of Caracas, Couture Couture

Southern Special-tea Family-owned and operated out of Richmond Hill, Hale Tea

Co. offers all-natural and organic teas and and organic teas and infusions from around the world, “infusing the world, “infusing the luxury and health the luxury and health benefits of gourmet loose tea into every-day life.” day life.” haletea.com

A Paw in NeedAfter the generosity of

Pho

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tt.

Ashley Newsome’s eco-conscious aesthetic lends itself to everything she creates in her studio and shop, Haberdashery Eco Fashion Supply. With a love for vintage, recycled and all-natural fabrics, Ashley ensures that each of her pieces is as sustainable as it is luxurious. Featuring unique patterns and handmade details, her boho-chic fashions evoke the class and Southern charm of Savannah with a fresh twist.

For in-stock items, recent creations, news and workshops, visit habsav.com or 311 W. Broughton St.


Sandfly Isle of Hope

AS SEEN IN


SK

IRT

! ST

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AY

Clockwise from top left: Coral cabochon earrings from Banana Republic, Green with Envy necklace from Trunk 13, citrine cocktail ring by ZÏA, silk button-down blouse by Ash-ley Newsome at Haberdashery Eco Fashion Supply, geometric-pattern dress and mint green belt from Fab’rik, Rodin lip balm and Glo eye shadow from See Jane, Sam Edelman sandals from Globe Shoe Com-pany, Tory Burch handbag from BleuBelle Boutique.

Well-Traveled Well-Traveled


3Join skirt! Savannah staff, readers

and special guests for drinks and more at our May release party! 6-8pm at

bar • food. 4523 Habersham St. facebook.com/skirtsavannahHHI

Put on your cutest swimsuit and

forget the towels for this wet-and-wild annual tradition—Tybee’s annual

Beach Bum Parade. 6pm. Butler Ave. on Tybee Island.

tybeevisit.com

Get your tickets early for SCAD’s

Fashion Show, featuring some of the country’s most talented designers and

student models in a runway show. 4 and 8pm.

scad.edu/experience/events

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3 open book Savannah Book Festival presents a luncheon with New York Times best-seller and Pulitzer Prize-winning author Geraldine Brooks. The Plantation Club at the Landings. savannahbookfestival.org

4 run for itJoin Chatham County’s Relay for Life to fight back against the disease. 7pm-7am. Benedictine Military School. relayforlife.org

4 dig in Watch SCAD students and alumni compete to win prizes for design in amazing sand sculptures at the Sand Arts Festival. 10am-4pm. Tybee Island’s North Beach. scad.edu/sandarts

5 helping hands Rebuilding Together Savannah’s Spring Rebuild is today. To volunteer or do-nate towards a newly repaired home for someone in need, visit rebuildingtogethersavannah.org.

5 beach it Paint Tybee Pink 5k & 10k beachside walk benefits LibLines Breast Cancer Fund at the Anderson Cancer Institute of Memorial University Medical Center. paintgeorgiapink.org

5 pipe down The 36th Annual Scottish Games celebrates with competitions, dancing,and our fave—men in skirts! Kidding.They’re kilts. Bethesda Academy.9am-5pm. savannahscottishgames.com

10 opening reception Hospice Savannah’s art show, featuring works by Karin Mead Phyllis Limbacher Tildes, benefits the pediatric hospice program. Reception 5:30-7:30pm. hospicesavannah.org

12 girls ON THE RUN The Happiest Run Around! GOTR 5k Celebration Run prepares girls for alifetime of healthy living. Registration7am/Race 8:30am. SSU Wright Stadium. girlsontherun-ga.org.

12 be more Teatime Stories is for women who strive to "Live More, Be More, in Pur-pose." Speaker Emra Smith will present a motivational lecture. 1-5pm. $30. Westin Savannah Harbor.

13 mom rocks It’s Mother’s Day! Show your mom how much you care: don’t just call, do something special to make her feel like the awesome woman she is. Who deserves it more than her?

14-17 fashion frenzy Savannah Fashion Week is back for an-other year of exclusive events, designer discounts, fashion shows and more benefiting Savannah’s SAFE Shelter. savannahfashionweek.org

19 finishing touch Savannah Philharmonic concludes the season with an awe-inspiring finale. 7:30pm. $16-55. Lucas Theatre. savannahphilharmonic.org

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Stacy Appel is an award-winning writer in Lafayette, CA, whose work has been featured in the Chicago Tribune and other publications. She has also written for National Public Radio. She is a contributor to the book You Know You’re a Writer When… by Adair Lara. Contact Stacy at [email protected]

Stacy Appel

When I was young, I longed to be British, unaware that no amount of practice could effect a transformation. I perched on the crimson carpeted staircase halfway between our home’s upstairs and downstairs—accidentally predating the Masterpiece Theater series of that name by many years—where I read A.A. Milne poems aloud in an

English accent while my all-too-American family members stepped around me. My role model at the time was the enchanting child actress Hayley Mills. London-born and bred, she rose to fame after being discovered by the wife of Walt Disney and cast in popular films. Hayley was everything to me: heroic, deeply feeling, poised, thoughtful. She was ever-so-cheerful, even when, in the movie Pollyanna, she tragically lost the use of her legs falling out of a tree, all in an effort to avoid the critical notice of her rich, controlling Aunt Polly. Hayley had a musical, spon-taneous laugh. She could blink back tears with the bravest. Her upperclass accent hinted of afternoon teacakes in manicured gardens, and I loved the wonderful way she bit her lip and furrowed her brow when she was thinking hard.

“You look and sound like a complete dork,” said my older brother definitively, watching me attempt the accent and the lip-bite/brow-furrow at the family dinner table. “More than usual, even.”

I read and re-read A Little Princess and The Secret Garden by Frances Hodg-son Burnett, thrilled by the way the English heroines triumphed over adversity. Plus, they had nannies and ayahs and school headmistresses. I had only a boring American babysitter named Joan who put her sock-clad feet up on the coffee table and read Seventeen magazine all night, preferable to conversing with me no mat-ter what accent I employed. “Cheerio, Joan,” I said, waving her off, Hayley style, on one of her many voyages to the kitchen. “It’s been grand, really it has.”

“Like I told you: You are so definitely a dork,” said my brother.My mother’s great-aunt actually was British; it’s possible my fixation with

all things English was already lodged in my DNA, one proper little pair of chro-mosomes clad in hats, gloves and sensible shoes. I never had the chance to meet Great-Aunt Millie, but the wooden server in our dining room held the hand-me-down fish forks, silver and linens she’d bequeathed, as well as old photos of croquet parties on English lawns, testament to a more refined life than the one my parents managed. My mother invoked her British relative’s manners regularly, as if by removing a wayward ketchup bottle from the table (“Millie would have been appalled!”) or using the proper small flat knife for butter, we might sashay a millimeter closer to the monarchy ourselves.

I had a headful of nonsense about Great Britain by the time I actually set foot on English soil. As a high school student traveling with my peers and a couple of school chaperones, I was so thrilled by our adventure that if I’d spotted a sign inside Heathrow airport pointing the way to Narnia or Fairyland or high tea or even just

“Frocks,” I would have been delighted and not even surprised. The real England was satisfying enough, if decidedly down to earth. We rode double-decker buses, saw a Shakespeare play in Stratford-upon-Avon, got sloshed in an English pub when the chaperones were off shopping, strolled Kew Gardens and watched pigeons criss-cross Trafalgar Square. I loved the bellhops in our third-rate hotel, who talked to me in what they hoped were Southern accents and tried to teach me Cockney rhyming slang. But nowhere to be found was the magical country I’d had in my head for so long, inhabited by Mary Poppins and Beatrix Potter, Jane Austen and Christopher Robin. British food, much like the citizens, seemed neither very good nor very bad. No heavenly puddings or horrible porridge, as in the books I’d read, just soup and fish and morning buns, or greasy chips wrapped in newspaper.

Many years later, I really did find the London of my dreams. As luck would have it, it happened in San Francisco. The Great Dickens Christmas Fair and Vic-torian Holiday Party meant that the country that had long resided in my imagina-tion sprang to life for a few short weeks, complete with chimney sweeps, ladies in hoop skirts and gents in top hats, and the sweet scent of vanilla and roasted chestnuts perfuming the air. Inside an enormous building, shops and streets were built and filled with game parlors, photos, and antique furniture. Sailors sang sea shanties dockside while carolers roamed the alleyways under a mantle of paper snow. Telegrams were hastily delivered to apothecaries and book stalls, delicious rum cakes and meat pies were nibbled in emporiums, marvelous conversations took place inside the Victorian Adventurers’ club. As Madame L’Etoile, an East End cook’s assistant posing as a French spiritualist, I welcomed people into the parlor I’d built and decorated, and wobbled all day between intentionally bad French and broad Cockney slang, in any way I pleased, while offering advice and mystical readings. Just my cup o’ tea.

On the last weekend of the last year I worked the Dickens Fair, a well-dressed couple stopped into my booth.

“’Ello, luvs,” I said. “Care for a readin’ and a nice sit by the fire for a bit?” I patted the pillow-adorned chaise, and they settled themselves comfortably. They chatted with me in true Dickens Fair spirit, even though they weren’t in costume; I loved the way they were pretending to be upper-class Brits inquiring about their futures. My version of a Cockney accent grew broader and more outlandish as I told their fortunes and they continued to play along.

“Ever so nice to meet you, guvs,” I said at the end of the reading. “And may I say, you’ve ’ad a bit o’ practice in the King’s English? I ain’t never not heard nuf-fin’ like it.” I winked at the nicely-dressed woman and jabbed the man in the side with my elbow.

“Actually, we really are from London,” said the wife. “We’re vacationing here in San Francisco for the week.”

Oh, dear. In my mind, I heard my brother say, “You not only sound like a dork, you are a dork.”

Yet somehow the couple was smiling at me, and the woman was saying kindly, “You know, your accent wasn’t bad at all. We enjoyed this whole experience. You’ll have to visit England one day.”

It’s a grand idea, and I plan to take her up on it, as soon as I figure out which particular country she meant.

80 mayw2012 charleston.skirt.com

Just my cup o’ tea.


Stephanie Hunt

34 mayw2012 charleston.skirt.com

This was my first Rocky Mountain high, and I felt giddily buzzed, possibly even stoned.


Stephanie Hunt is a Charleston, SC-based freelance writer and long-time contributor to skirt!, among other publications. She blogs (sporadically) at alifestill.com and literarycharleston.wordpress.com, and bikes (frequently) through the Lowcountry flatlands, a region she hopes to make more bike-friendly through work with the nonprofit Charleston Moves.

To The Other Side

Edith Cavell towered before us. An imposing, icy dame, her face was crevassed by weather and the cruel rutting of time. But boy was she gorgeous. Astonishingly so, with her rugged silhouette and handsome brow outlined by alabaster snow against an azure sky. Mount Edith Cavell was our first of many mountains to summit on a five-day bicycle tour in the Canadian Rockies, and her beauty as much as her sharp incline left me breathless. She rose out of the densely forested landscape with fierce grace and commanding presence, like the Greta Garbo of geological formations—I couldn’t keep my eyes off her.

We began Edith’s ascent only an hour or two into our trip. Our small band of merry cyclists—my husband and me, and Darlene, a spunky middle-aged nurse on “holiday” from Australia, led by Peter, the tour company owner and German ex-pat/former adventure racer, and Dieter, his spry, very German 70-year-old father and pos-sibly the most gentle person I’ve ever met—had rolled out of the small town of Jasper that morning just as a huge elk ambled across the road, on cue, like a photo op staged by some behind-the-scenes Canadian tourism Oz. We were in Jasper National Park, the wildest of Canada’s wilderness parks, an area where bears and mountain goats are as likely to be on the road as bikes and Winnebagos, and the July air was, thankfully, about 40 degrees cooler than the searing heat we’d left behind. I felt frisky and raring to go, which was a good thing—Edith would demand every ounce of that energy. She was nine miles of uphill climb, a vertical DNA strand of merciless switchbacks.

As we rounded each curve, Edith’s snow-crowned peak would appear a little closer. My ears popped several times with the 2200-foot elevation gain; my lungs and thighs were screaming, but Edith’s alpine glory was like a siren song propelling me onward and upward. This was my first Rocky Mountain high, and I felt buzzed, possibly even stoned. Mount Edith’s postcard-perfect grandeur was only part of the sensory whirl. There was also the forest scent of Peppermint Patty and the park’s cascading quiet, ruffled only by the rhythm of my heavy breathing and the slow roll of rubber tire on asphalt—all intensified by exercise-induced endorphins rocketing through my veins.

Mount Edith Cavell was a steep grade, but it had been an even longer climb to arrive here. We’d actually booked this trip two years earlier, after spending months researching various tour options—ruling out cushy ones with all the bells and whistles and the bottom-barrel ones that were a little too bare-bones, until we finally settled on Peter’s just-right outfit. Then three days before takeoff one of our daughters ended up in the hospital. That extra couple-hundred bucks for trip insurance turned out to be one of my smarter investments. After a brief scare, my daughter was fine, but then, in a very short order, both my parents’ health went careening downhill. Divorced for decades with separate lives in separate states, my mother, newly diagnosed with ALS, and my father, with rapid onset Alzheimer’s, were now, though still estranged, oddly joined, literally, in a very ill fate.

For the next year and a half, I became an itinerant mom and traveling daughter, going to doctors’ visits and spending weekends with my mom. My laptop traveled too, and there I’d see the folder titled “bike trip,” where I’d saved our itinerary, reser-vation confirmation, airport shuttle info, “what to pack” details. I realized that half the pleasure of a vacation is the planning, the anticipation, and the folder contained that latent excitement even as I found myself journeying through this new and un-pleasant terrain, on a trip I had not planned, with an empty suitcase and no clue what I should be packing.

My mother died seven months after my father passed away, and a month after that, I emailed Peter and asked if there was room on his next Jasper-to-Banff tour, departing in three weeks. “Yes,” he said; we rebooked.

Reaching the top of Mount Edith Cavell that first day felt better than anything I’d felt in a long while. The scenery was surreal, the physical work hard and gratify-ing, the release—a heady rush of grief and joy wound together through two years and nine miles of twisting switchbacks—was immense. At the top we parked the bikes and walked a rocky path to Angel Glacier, a small lake pooled in her lap, huge chunks of ice floated in the ghostly blue water. The surrounding valley was littered with boulders and gravel, refuse left in a glacier’s wake like some giant had come stomping through, which I suppose it had. This was a hard geography—ice and rock and altitude—and yet its beauty and enormity were also soothing.

In the days that followed, we biked past waterfalls, massive icefields, more hills and long, blissfully flat roads alongside the Athabasca River. Every vista was gorgeous, every overlook picture-worthy, but nothing surpassed that first day’s climb up Mount Edith Cavell. Dieter told us, in his thick German accent, that the mountain was named in honor of a British nurse in World War I who helped Allied soldiers trapped behind enemy lines escape to safety. Cavell was found guilty of treason and executed by a German firing squad. Some of the Canadian soldiers she aided named this mountain in gratitude and tribute to her heroism. Like those soldiers, I, too, remain grateful for her escort on my uphill journey to the other side.

charleston.skirt.com mayw2012 35


Jamey Espina says "Aloha."Each May, Hospice Savannah offers a different kind of escape for children who need it most:

those dealing with the loss of a loved one. The weekend-long retreat, Camp Aloha, is inspired by the Hawaiian word

meaning both hello and goodbye. “Grief is part of who we are,” says director Jamey Espina, “We’re wired for it. Because we love, we grieve.”

Welcoming children ages 6-17, camp teaches them how to cope through counselors, creative exercises and, perhaps most importantly,

interacting with peers who are going through similar situations. “If you let children be themselves, they’re going to recover naturally,”

Jamey explains, “And on our end, we just get to hear love stories all day.”

What’s your favorite thing about wearing a skirt?

“Men are the minority in my field—to be in the company of the world’s caregivers is an honor.”

What’s your favorite thing about reading skirt!?

“skirt! helps me stay connected with what’s going on in the community.”

Photo by Amy Moore

He’s So Original


Skirt of the MonthCustard Boutique

422 Whittaker St.912.232.4733

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“Well-Traveled” ScarfGo Fish106 W. Broughton St.912.231.0609

Vintage SuitcaseCivvies New & Recycled Clothing 22 E. Broughton St.912.236.1551

To Pack

La Sardinia Quadrat CameraPrimary Art Supply14 E. Broughton St.912.233.7624

Slim Sonic ToothbrushViolight

violight.com


April 2012 skirt! Magazine Release Party • April 4, 2012 • 17Hundred90 Inn & Restaurant

Photos courtesy of Emmy Lubitz & Guinnevere Cutlip

www.savannah.skirt.com • facebook.com/skirtsavannahHHI • @skirtsavannahwww.savannah.skirt.com • facebook.com/skirtsavannahHHI • @skirtsavannah

skirt! scene


Love this Poster?Prints are available for purchase

at LetsLiveLikeThis.com

Jennifer Renninger is an illustrator from Tampa, FL, whose clients include The New York Times, Wall Street Journal, Harper’s, Bark, Urban Outfitters, O Magazine and Chronicle Books.


Meet Meet: Felicia Walker-Hayes, new-member greeter, host and city ambassador for Couch Surfing

Savannah, this new addition to the Derby Devils squad is as friendly as she is fearless.

My Guilty Pleasure: Cheese.

My Favorite Shoes:My skates.

My Lucky Charm: Turkish evil-eye pendant.

My Zodiac Sign: Pisces.

Coolest Place I’ve Traveled:The Great Wall of China.

Favorite Restaurant Cha Bella. Where I Shop Locally Nourish. My Role Model My mother. My Workout Roller derby. Go Derby Devils!

Dream Date James Franco. Favorite TV Show The Office. Words I Live By Try everything once! My Pet My dog, Hank, and cats, Coconut and Mini Ninni.

Dream Vacation Couch surfing Italy! I’d Like To Learn To speak Chinese fluently. My Gadget My iPhone. Red, White or Beer? Red.

Pho

to b

y E

mm

y L

ubit

z


Nikki Hardin is the founder and publisher of skirt! magazine. She blogs at fridaville.com.

planetnikki[ a v i s u a l j o u r n a l ]

I found this reproduction Buddha head on a weekendtrip to Beaufort, SC. It was one of those love-at-� rst-sight purchases, the kind I never regret.

I love our skirt! luggage tags and the little design our Art Director, Caitilin McPhillips, came up with for them. We’re giving them away at events—be on the lookout.

My Skirt the Rules bracelet from Kate Spade reminds me not to become too middle-of-the-road.

that many of the items on my wish list

while I dig into my well-worn pedestrian path

for the future are things I could do right now.

I realized recently

There’s always a leak in the roof,

day after day after day.

I need to pack a bag, lock the door behind me

Instead, I postpone, proscrastinate and put off pleasure

like the usually sensible Mole in my favorite book,

a bill to pay, a reason to be cautious.

and set off into into the unknown,

Wind in the Willows.

My Skirt the Rules bracelet from Kate Spade reminds

I didn’t notice that the detail on the side

of my new Prada sunglasses matches my tattoo until someone pointed it out. Now I love hiding

behind them even more.

On Constant Replay:I’ve been watching

Let’s Get Lost, the Bruce Weber � lm about Chet Baker, in

sections on YouTube and his jazz masterpiece just won’t

let me go.

skirt! magazine savannah - may 2012

Documents

editorall letters

art director caitilin

nikki hardin

editor margaret

cruise line

zip line

editorial content

space limitations