Meet Meg
Curator of Beauty
My Story...
I grew up surrounded by extended family — aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents — all woven into the fabric of my everyday life.
Sunday night dinners, holidays, birthdays, any excuse to gather… they were all marked by warmth, food, laughter, and a sense of being part of something larger and deeply grounding.
But beyond the togetherness, I was quietly being trained in the art of beauty and gracious living.
From a young age, I learned:
how to polish silver
how to wash and dry china without leaving a trace
how to set a proper table
how to serve guests thoughtfully
how to host with ease
how to cook and bake with love
I was taught that silence is sometimes the most elegant reply… that generosity is a virtue… and that creating beauty for others is a form of care that lingers long after they’ve left the table.
These early lessons shaped me more than I realized at the time.
The Influence of Elegant Evelyn
Alongside my family was my grandmother’s closest friend, Evelyn — my mother’s godmother and the woman I considered the Coco Chanel of our small town.
She wasn’t wealthy, but she was effortlessly chic:
red lipstick
black hair
elegant clothes
a home decorated with impeccable style on a dime
As a girl, I served hors d’oeuvres at her parties, trying not to stumble while taking in her robin’s-egg blue dining chairs and her yellow-painted fireplace. Her spaces were whimsical and enchanting — they delighted every sense.
She showed me what it looked like to create beauty not from money, but from vision.
Years later, while I was in college, I had a dream I’ll never forget.
Evelyn appeared younger, wearing capris, ballet flats, a striped shirt, and a wide-brimmed hat — riding a bicycle with a basket of food (baguette included). She waved as she pedaled past and called, “I’ll see you later!”
The next morning, my mother called to tell me Evelyn had passed.
Her influence remained — and over time, she became one of the guiding muses of my life.
My Story...
I grew up surrounded by extended family — aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents — all woven into the fabric of my everyday life.
Sunday night dinners, holidays, birthdays, any excuse to gather… they were all marked by warmth, food, laughter, and a sense of being part of something larger and deeply grounding.
But beyond the togetherness, I was quietly being trained in the art of beauty and gracious living.
From a young age, I learned:
how to polish silver
how to wash and dry china without leaving a trace
how to set a proper table
how to serve guests thoughtfully
how to host with ease
how to cook and bake with love
I was taught that silence is sometimes the most elegant reply… that generosity is a virtue… and that creating beauty for others is a form of care that lingers long after they’ve left the table.
These early lessons shaped me more than I realized at the time.
The Influence of Elegant Evelyn
Alongside my family was my grandmother’s closest friend, Evelyn — my mother’s godmother and the woman I considered the Coco Chanel of our small town.
She wasn’t wealthy, but she was effortlessly chic:
red lipstick
black hair
elegant clothes
a home decorated with impeccable style on a dime
As a girl, I served hors d’oeuvres at her parties, trying not to stumble while taking in her robin’s-egg blue dining chairs and her yellow-painted fireplace. Her spaces were whimsical and enchanting — they delighted every sense.
She showed me what it looked like to create beauty not from money, but from vision.
Years later, while I was in college, I had a dream I’ll never forget.
Evelyn appeared younger, wearing capris, ballet flats, a striped shirt, and a wide-brimmed hat — riding a bicycle with a basket of food (baguette included). She waved as she pedaled past and called, “I’ll see you later!”
The next morning, my mother called to tell me Evelyn had passed.
Her influence remained — and over time, she became one of the guiding muses of my life.
