I had a whole other post I was going to share with you this morning, announcing the upcoming launch of vintage and preloved clothing in the shop. But I realized that everything about my brand, my writing, and my shop makes a lot more sense if you hear about my greatest inspiration: my grandmother. What follows is a little tribute to her. I hope that in understanding Nina, you’ll understand me and the shop a little more as well.
Pictured here c. the 1970s is Eileen Harris née Geoghegan. My Nina (grandmother), best friend, and greatest inspiration. She’s been gone for more than 16 years but in so many ways is still with me every day.
Nina was filled with beautiful contradictions: grit and grace, kindness and ferocity, a penchant for both classic literature and glossy fashion magazines.
She never hesitated to give all the change in her purse to those asking on the streets of Vancouver (“I’d like to think someone would do the same for my children if they were in that position,” she’d say firmly, chin held high, to those who criticized her) or to use her Irish temper to tell off anyone who crossed her.
Nina kept an immaculate house—she was the original coastal grandmother, in my opinion—and her wardrobe was to die for: Frye boots, a fur coat, a heavenly array of cozy knits, vintage denim, structured trousers, and silky tops.
Yet she also once clamoured out of the house leaving the front door open and likely supper on the stove to chase a too-fast ice cream truck barefoot through Steveston village. (We finally caught up with him, and ate ice cream before supper that day.)
In her lifetime Nina lived through a world war, hiding under the kitchen table to weather bombings over Liverpool; stole coal from railroad tracks to heat the ramshackle house she lived in with her seven siblings; and at a young age left everything she knew to travel overseas and build a new life with my grandad, never quite recovering from her homesickness for England.
Yet she always appreciated the nice things in life, enjoyed beauty for beauty’s sake, and found pleasure in a life well-lived. From Nina I learned to notice and relish every sip of a good cup of tea or glass of wine (sherry for her), every page of a good book, every blackberry that ripened up in early fall.
She taught me to elevate special moments (we dressed in our finest, cooked a four course meal, and rearranged the furniture in the living room every Academy Awards night), and to feel for quality fabrics first and check the label next.
She also taught me to recognize early on that not everyone has the privilege to enjoy these little pleasures, and to reach a hand out to anyone who has fallen down if you’re able.
Nina instilled in me the belief that everyone deserves beauty and joy; and that the sorrows inevitable in our existence make it even more important to stop and experience it. She showed me that doing this is what makes for a storied life.
Everything I learned from my Nina influences both the way I move through the world, and the way I create and curate for The Story Kept.
I can’t wait to share with you the next chapter of this story: the addition of vintage and preloved clothing to the shop, inspired by the worldviews I inherited from my Nina.
Every piece reflects European-meets-Pacific Northwest elegance and the poetry of natural textures and colour palettes. And, of course, the permission to relish in the small beauty of a cozy sweater or a well-made jacket; to collect moments and treasures for your own storied life.
Thank you so much for reading. If you’ve liked this little story, do subscribe to get updates whenever I post. You can follow along on Instagram for sneaky peeks at the clothing collection and to keep up with me and my day-to-day adventures.
She sounds like an incredible woman, what a legacy to leave you with. Also, I've got my eye on that sleeveless lacy knit!