Main menu

Reinvent yourself…

“She longed for porch friendship, for the sticky, hot sensation of familiar female legs thrown over hers in companionship.

She pined for the girliness of it all, the unplanned, improvisational laziness.

She wanted to soak the words ‘time management’ out of her lexicon.

She wanted to hand over, to yield, to let herself float down the unchartered beautiful fertile musky swamp of life, where creativity and eroticism and deep intelligence dwell.”

~ Rebecca Wells, Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood


Caftans & Gin – The Reinvention Tour starts on Monday and the girl gang is gathering in anticipation.

Why am I doing this?

Because after the year of fire I received a ton of questions from my wild ones asking how I was able to make it through that with grace and humour.

In responding to those kind and beautiful messages I realized that with each event that happened I had to reinvent my reality.

I was no longer that guy’s girlfriend.
I was no longer anyone’s daughter.
I had no business to manage.

I was naked without those titles and it was scary as fuck.

What got me through it was the girl gang, my sense of humour and how I had (unknowingly) set my life up to support me.

When I wanted to yell, cry, vent, laugh, or just be – my friends let me. Even encouraged me. Checked in on me when I went radio silent. Made me laugh when I didn’t want to and loved me unconditionally.

Last spring a friend of mine had a new baby and she was exhausted. Hanging at the park one day she asked me why women had been having babies for centuries. How are they able to keep functioning on no sleep is what she wanted to know.

I said I thought it was because one of the other village women would have taken and breast fed the baby, another would have tucked her in to sleep, another would have made her tea and listened to her cry, another would have stood guard so no one could bug her and all of them would have been there to support her through it.

In that incredibly raw and real conversation with my tired and lovely friend I realized that the traditional models of self care are fucked.

We are not meant to do this alone.

In support, in celebration, in triumph and trauma, as women we need each other.

That is how the Caftans & Gin – The Reinvention Tour came to be.

Born from late night talks on relationship status, on holding on and letting go, on not grasping, on finding and OWNING our bad assery, on not bending over, on allowing and honouring our own process, on channeling the muses and magic around you to engage and indulge your senses, on letting humour be your litmus test on life, on sex love and rock and roll,on the flames of the last year, I outlined this course.

I called it Caftans & Gin because why the fuck not? Plus that photo of my mom and aunt randomly standing in front of a palm tree made me laugh.

I called it the Reinvention Tour because I always wanted to be a bad ass rock star but my mother never encouraged me.

I said it was for girls who join gangs because the phrase “tribe” is so overused I want to throw up a little when I hear it.

I chose this time of year for 2 reasons:

1. Because its a leap year and the oddness of that as a start date appeals to me, and I want it to end right before spring officially starts. That is really my “new year”.  Fuck Jan 1. Everything is cold and dead in the ground.

2. Hot gold spring fever baby! We are waking up from hibernation, the juices are flowing, lust is running high and it seemed like a good time to get metaphorically naked and do something different.

Leonard has his snapback ball cap on backwards and is wearing his black “Caftans & Gin Tour 2016” bomber jacket and is ready to roadie for us.

I hope you’ll join us to get your groove back, to laugh while you are doing it and to do it in community.

Caftans & Gin is a place where you can be strong and smart and beautiful and wild without having to worry what anyone is thinking.

Drive fast. Get naked. Live wild. xoxo

Stay gold wild ones.
Thanks for hanging out with me.



Leave a Reply

Mailing List

Musings on love, laughter, freedom right to your inbox. Your wildness is calling.
* = required field