Hey, I know her!

As I stepped in the parking lot more than just the midday sun (& sweltering heat-hello June in SC😅) hit me…

Fingers loosely wrapped around the pages resting on my forearm, it hit me that this magazine had unbeknownst to me til this very moment, actually helped shaped that laid-back woman pushing a bike across its cover, dreamy husband in tow.

But seriously, I didn’t grow up w/much, & although I technically did grow up in the South, there was absolutely nothing charming about the outskirts of Tampa in the mid 90’s. For the early part of my childhood my mom worked days & attended school at night. My dad worked two jobs, including a few custodial shifts at my school to finance my tuition…& if you think being the poor girl in a private school is tough, just imagine when they find out your dad is the janitor. Thankfully, an unmerited amount of confidence & probably more so- a heavy pour of Gods grace, it never really bothered me

Most of my free time was spent at my grandmothers, which meant manual labor. To this day she’s one of the hardest working humans I know, even cutting her acre & a half of grass with a push mower…at 86 y’all! If she wasn’t making me can tomatoes, I was kneading dough or working alongside her in the garden. Looking back, this is precious time w/my most favorite of influences on me, but in 2nd grade it was torture.

My only reprieve was in escaping to her sunroom & the sanctuary of an old wicker basket stuffed w/worn edged & folded down corner magazines. A glimpse into a life I didn’t have but wanted, & while she had a wide selection of cooking & home & garden magazines, I was especially loyal to Southern Living. Its title captured my childhood dream in two words & its pages helped me build it out, conjuring up the details to envision it clearly.

Most of which she had were old, but unlike others in her collection the Southern Living’s were all in color if my memory serves correctly. They were outdated & faded, but I didn’t care. I would sit down & devour each one cover to cover, salivating over every word of every article from that pink carpeted, windowed (& extremely humid) room.

My most treasured escape in the pages of a place meals were served in courses & there were enough hours in the day to make food not only delicious but beautiful. Tables were set w/intention & an enriching southern history seemed to hang at the hems of flowing gingham dresses the women wore. (Spoiler alert I became a history teacher😆)

They were put together but relaxed, fancy but livable, & their life was as inviting as the gas lantern front porch stoops they sat on…spiked lemonade in hand, of course. I wanted to be them, & not because they were beautiful or wealthy, or for any reason other than them looking uninhibited & happy in their slow-paced southern life.

They weren’t confined to a dress code of shorts & tanks tops in the year round heat of my rundown beach town. In fall they had pumpkins on their steps, in winter cinnamon stick garnished cider in hand, & my most favorite of all in spring-a sea of azaleas in their yard. (If you haven’t sipped artillery punch & sauntered the cobblestone of Savannah alongside sidewalks overflowing with purple, pink & white blooms…well, you just haven’t experienced a true southern afternoon, (& believe me you’re overdue😉)

I would sit for hours flipping through pages of azalea lined drives & charming gatherings that always seemed to feature some sort of freshly picked, caught, or baked item the writer was raving about. They spoke straight to the soul of this reader as I fell more in love w/a place I didn’t know but somehow felt like home to me. & that wasn’t the only love it sparked. Reading lead to writing & an appreciation for the telling of people’s stories…

At 8 I was set on moving north to the “real” south in pursuit of this quintessential lifestyle, determined to be the girl on the magazine. When I got to college I wanted to be the girl writing the stories & focused on becoming a reporter, or at the very least a freelance writer for dreamy prints like that of my childhood love. …& then I met another love & graduated college with a sparkle on my left hand that lead to the introduction of two more loves of my life & a new set of dreams.

& somewhere in the busyness of life & amidst the most beautiful of distractions, I forgot all about the plans & goals of the me before. But one thing remained, a love for the southern life & a soft spot the corner of checkout lines.

We moved to Savannah 12yrs ago & never looked back. In fact my husband left the military bc neither of us could bear to leave the Lowcountry lifestyle when his tour came to an end. We’ve since landed in the quiet town of Bluffton & spend our sunrises & sunsets floating between Savannah’s charm & Hilton heads unrivaled coast. Still living a pinch me life, still unable to leave the grocery w/out the latest copy of my sweetest childhood memory.

And so while it’s an absolute silly little thing & let’s be honest, you wouldn’t know it was me if I hadn’t told you, a by chance opportunity that led to me being “the woman on the magazine”, turned out to mean well, quite a lot….

I used to look at these women & envy how carefree & marvelous they were, wanting to be just like them when I grew up. & while growing up teaches us that no life is as carefree & marvelous as a magazine ad, I am in fact full to the brim of happy. Living among some of the most hospitable folks in the country, passing by azaleas & under moss draped oaks, fully emersed in the richness of it all. Many of my evenings do in fact end on a porch full of friends w/some sort of freshly picked, caught, or baked good (peach cobbler is a June staple), & believe me, none of it is lost on me…

Carefree?…No….But a life sweeter than a glass of southern tea? Well, just ask the girl on the cover. I think her answer would make a wide eyed 8yr old on the floor of her grandmothers sunroom grin her biggest toothless smile.

Thank you Southern Living for being a staple in my life, for being fresh while classic, for staying true to your roots & helping me establish mine. I owe more to you than just my propensity for linen napkins & mint juleps. You inspired me monthly & gave this southern hearted girl a dream to dream & attain….