All Fours

Cheers to dancing in our underwear at any age

Have you ever read a novel and thought “Whoa, this seems… outrageous? Is this going to come full circle? Where are we going with this?” And when it all of a sudden gets pieced together and does a full loop, you tend to appreciate it even more?

Those were my exact sentiments for Miranda July’s All Fours. A rollercoaster of a novel that had me on the edge of my seat thinking “ok, this is cringe,” to, “ok well, this is even cringier” on more than one occasion, but, I enjoyed reading it so much that I didn’t want to put it down, and decided to trust the process, because it was evident that July had a message she wanted to get across. Each paragraph and chapter had a purpose and the novel as a whole was so clever.

The 45-year old unnamed narrator takes us on a wild ride from Los Angeles to New Yor—I mean, Monrovia, CA. Cutting her preplanned road trip to the East Coast short by oh, 40.5 hours. And so our journey begins in a Monrovia motel room-turned-sanctuary where we head straight first into the narrator’s intimate encounters with perimenopausal woes, and her earnest pursuit to flip the conversation on its head.

“I looked out at the circle of faces and saw that every single audience member was going through some version of my revelation, some reckoning with the self they had been carrying around until now. I had not been the only one knotted in miserly pain; that was part of the ride. Resistance, then giving in.”

I’ll admit, transforming this one into a party format was a little tough, but I loved the energy of the novel. It felt so upbeat and fulfilling. The narrator especially came to life when she was redecorating and designing the motel room. It felt like her little escape from reality, the place where she was able to come to terms with everything, which I think, was a beautiful thing. So I imagined this all from the perspective of her room at the Excelsior Motel, and what she’d realistically be able to offer inside #351.

Drinks

I can’t see our girl getting down with any alcohol. She needs to see clearly. She’s rediscovering herself and wants to feel all the feelings! No time for numbness. Since the novel seems so LA, I’d expect her to have all sorts of Ghias lined up in her motel’s mini fridge at the ready.

Photo via Ghia’s Instagram

Menu

Ok, you can’t do much in a motel room with just the basics, and I couldn’t help but notice the narrator didn’t really eat much, and when she did, she was grazing. Olives, nuts, cheeses, basically my idea of a girl dinner. Not mad about it.

Since this novel feels so larger than life, we’re going with a fully loaded set-up. Hunks of cheese, honey, nuts, olives, charcuterie, dips and crackers. The whole nine yards. Hey, she didn’t skimp on the $20k motel renovation so why should we let this spread feel any less extravagant?

Photo via Pinterest

The Tablescape
Since the motel room was modeled after a hotel in Paris, I had a lot to work with here. For some reason though, everything she described to me about the hotel room gave me ‘Madonna Inn’ rather than Parisian. Alas, I incorporated a lot of burgundy and soft pinks. The theme was moody - playing off the colors of the antique bedspread she scored, and I of course had to throw in a tonka vanilla-esque candle for the right aroma.

1. Aerin Bordered Napkins, Williams & Sonoma

2. Pink & Burgundy GHIA edition Provence Totem Glasses, SSENSE

3. Ivoire Candle, Le Feu de L’eau

For florals, I love this one by florist Alice Lam. She’s a master at using smoke bush. Ingredients that feel messy in all the right ways.

Featured flowers: Oncidium Orchids and Smoke Bush

The Outfit
This was probably the hardest outfit I’ve had to put together to date. For some reason, I couldn’t imagine the narrator’s style. A few passages described what she was wearing, but they didn’t seem to match my image of her. Some would peg the narrator as wacky or eccentric, but I felt like on the outside she was trying to conform to some other reality that wasn’t true to her own identity. Since she’s somewhat famous, I gave her a bit of edge and sexiness with this Deep End Club T-Shirt and skin tight Toteme skirt. For the record, you can tell me I’m totally wrong about this and I won’t be offended. This is just my interpretation. Comment yours if you’ve read the book! I’d love to get some different perspectives here.

Blazer, T-Shirt, Skirt, Shoes

The Playlist
Basically all of the songs I’d want to dance to in my underwear. Unleash the inner freak.

The Mood Board

All photos via Pinterest