Conversation – 37

Love the message. More is more and less is a bore ♥

@sheba2011

Gorgeous day in the ‘burgh. Bright sunshine, breezy and mid-70s.🌞 Another one tomorrow.

Ice cream of my choice, you know I will choose more than one, LOL!🤣 More like a taste of each one you have.🍦🍦 Can there be anyone who doesn’t like ice cream?

We plan to get together with my niece and SIL tomorrow for lunch. Since the day will be nice, we are going to the winery so we can sit outside. Pasta and wine – the PERFECT day!🍝🍷 Wish you could join us. Certain days they have bands and singers so you would fit right in!👍

Sending big hugs to you and Poppy.🤗💖

HSN Iris Apfel. 🎈😎💕

We all miss you. ❤️

@shoelady60,

Good day in the ‘burgh. 🎈😎💕Hey take your time today come what may.
I totally get being under the weather and not feeling like doing much. Let the
body rest and heal.

As a matter of fact how about some Ice Cream of your choice. 💕😎 I know we are
bad eggs LOL! I love being baad. 😎💕🎈Enjoy!

I hope you are able to see and have fun with your niece. 💕😎🎈

Sending cool vibes to you and Jake. 🎈😎💕

@taci,

Good morning in S. California. 🎈😎💕Taci thank you for such a nice post from last
night. This all comes from childhood when you are not allowed to watch TV. I found
my joy and it was music. 🎶💕My father was a singer also and he had no problem with
the music just no TV unless it was Uncle Walt and the Wizard of OZ. 💕

This is a good day for Ice Cream. 💕😎🎈

Enjoy the trails and I am wishing your husband’s parents all the best and a speedy recovery.

@oodiebom,

Good day on the Gulf Coast of Florida. 🎈😎Oodie I pray your weather is cooler.
The merry month of June is almost over where did it go?

I hope everything works out for you with the Reno and everything else.

Love the little drummer you brought for your husband that is such a cute idea. 💕

I think your husband may be craving some Ice Cream. 💕😎🎈

For most of her life, nobody in fashion knew her name.
And Iris Apfel didn’t particularly mind.
She had grown up in Queens, New York, surrounded by the textiles her family sold, absorbing color and texture and pattern the way other children absorbed music. She studied art history. She built a career in interior design. She and her husband Carl ran a prestigious textile restoration company that worked inside the White House under nine different presidents — quietly, behind the scenes, touching history without ever seeking the spotlight.
But every morning, before the work began, Iris got dressed.
Not simply dressed. She created. She layered necklaces until they became sculpture. She stacked bangles up her arms until they sang when she moved. She mixed a couture jacket with costume jewelry from a street vendor. She wore colors that clashed on purpose, because the clash itself was the point. She bought tribal beads from her travels and draped them alongside Dior. She found treasures in flea markets and wore them beside things that cost a fortune.
Nobody was watching. That was never the point.
She was simply living her truth — building, every single day, a visual language entirely her own.
Then in 2005, curator Harold Koda of the Metropolitan Museum of Art reached out with an unusual request. A planned exhibition had fallen through. He had seen Iris’s extraordinary collection and wanted to know — would she allow the Met to show it?
Iris Apfel was 84 years old.
The exhibition was called Rara Avis — Rare Bird. It became a sensation.
Suddenly this woman with her enormous round black glasses, her snow-white hair, her crimson lipstick and her absolute refusal to dress like anyone’s idea of an elderly woman was everywhere. She didn’t look like anyone the fashion world had ever put on a pedestal. She looked like herself — unapologetically, defiantly, gloriously herself.
The industry didn’t quite know what to do with her. Here was a woman in her 80s commanding more attention, more genuine admiration, more column inches than models a fraction of her age. She hadn’t asked for permission. She hadn’t waited for validation. She had simply spent eight decades developing a point of view so original, so fully formed, so entirely her own that when the world finally looked — it couldn’t look away.
She stacked. She layered. She clashed. She wore feather boas with chunky beads and paired $10 earrings with $10,000 jackets because she understood something the fashion industry spent decades missing:
Style isn’t about money. It isn’t about youth. It isn’t about following rules.
It’s about the courage to be completely, specifically, unmistakably yourself.
In interviews she drew a sharp line that resonated with millions: anyone with money could buy fashion, but style required something deeper. Originality. Courage. The willingness to walk into a room looking like no one else and to feel not exposed, but free.
Social media gave her a stage the size of the world. On Instagram, millions followed her every outfit. On TikTok — past her 100th birthday — she dispensed wit and wisdom with the energy of someone who had figured out what actually mattered and had no patience left for anything that didn’t.
Her profile said everything: More is more & Less is a Bore.
She collaborated with major brands into her 90s. She attended fashion weeks and owned every room she entered. She became a documentary subject, a muse, and an icon — not because she fit into any box the industry had built, but because she had spent a lifetime building her own.
She and Carl were married for 67 years, partners in business and in life until his death in 2015. They never had children. But Iris gave something to millions of people who never met her — permission. Young people found permission to dress boldly. Older people found permission to refuse invisibility. Everyone found permission to stop apologizing for taking up space.
Iris Apfel died on March 1, 2024, at 102 years old.
She worked and created until the very end.
For eight decades, she built a visual language no one was watching. Then the world turned around, and there it was — fully formed, impossible to ignore, like nothing anyone had ever seen.
She never chased the spotlight.
She simply became so completely herself that the spotlight had no choice but to find her.
At 84.
And she spent the next 18 years making sure everyone understood what had taken her a lifetime to know:
The most revolutionary thing you can do in a world that wants you to shrink — is to take up more space than they ever thought you deserved.
More is more.
And less is a bore.

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