Early morning. White robe. Tears. Confusion. The horror of it. The second Twin Tower collapses on live television. Was it a replay? 

The Regency Hotel, New York. My fellow reporters and I glued to the television set in the hospitality suite. An eerie disquiet floats. Like an osprey upon its prey, the words “not guilty” descend on us. A collective gasp breaks the silence. Orenthal James Simpson is a free man.

I ride the wave that is the living room floor of my L.A. apartment, a glass-half-full attitude presiding. The words ”at least I will die happy” leave my lips as I am shaken into submission unaware that a few years down the road I would be staring happy in the face with a generous dose of gratitude. Meet the Sierra Madre earthquake.

A Range Rover cradled by the ocean. Pristine streets turned filthy swamps of terror. Naked estates begging for cover. Mother Nature’s muddy wrath brings our community to its knees. And yet no amount of shock, disbelief or grief manages to tarnish the underpinnings of our city’s unity and strength, qualities Santa Barbara carries with her tenfold to this day.

The ease with which those memories can be summoned to mind astounds me. Not so with the coronavirus pandemic. On the heels of the impeachment trial and presidential primaries, our deeply divided country is on the verge of being held hostage to a world calamity, ubiquitous emotions clashing with mental images of before and after clamoring to be seen.

The last time I hugged a friend was in our garden on Saturday, March 14. We had just videobombed our daughters’ recording, a moment frozen in time, the one I keep close to my heart. This is my last before. Try as I might to conjure up an image of what might lie ahead is increasingly futile. A pathogen directive implores us to reassess our priorities which are forever changed.

Thankfully, the technology we are keen to keep away from our children has become an essential part of our new normal. As I write I am cognizant of the fact that there is no shortage of content. Never before had I seen so many facebook posts and text notifications alerting me to the voices of my fellow quarantine warriors. We receive tidings of everything from politics as they relate to the virus to memes of a now defunct porn star who could not have imagined just how famous he had become. I witnessed and experienced every possible emotion from anger to laughter and melancholy to folly in the initial days of our quarantine. Two weeks later, our family has well adapted to our daily routines. As a friend I have learned that in the absence of physical connections many of us find comfort in the virtual cocktail hour that modern technology offers, while others find strength in solitude. As a mother I have employed both a firm hand approach and that of a protective lioness defending her cubs. I welcome each day as a challenge, a lesson learned, an opportunity to grow, and for those of us who have not succumbed to the virus, a battle won.

When the pressure is on is when you really see what people are made of. People can be great when everything is great. The question is what does a person do when things aren't great and what does a person do when the pressure is on them?

In a palpable state of exhaustion, Governor Andrew Cuomo of New York delivered the above words while addressing his constituents on Friday. His is my go-to voice when I crave unity, empathy and strength, which is every day of late.

Yes we're tired but look at what others among us have to do, the challenge they're under and how they are stepping up. Who am I to complain about being tired when so many people are doing such heroic efforts?

As the days continue to unfold, so do beautiful stories highlighting the triumph of the human spirit: teens delivering food to the elderly, a commercial landlord who asked his tenants to pay their employees in lieu of rent and my friend, Pamela, who has fabricated much needed masks by the dozens for the the first responders.

The beautiful comment below, in response to a facebook post in which the writer suggests we all have a will in place, nearly brought me to tears:

I thought maybe we should be writing our wishes on a post it and putting it inside the door. Like... "I'm 49. Please don't ventilate me if someone with young kids needs it."

Stories like these have aided me in finding compassion for the different manner in which each of us responds to what we face, read, and hear. Surrounding myself with these positive voices has been instrumental in keeping my glass half-full. Nearly two weeks ago my brother sent me a clip of his godson, Klaus Stroink, and his two roommates in Barcelona, belting out a rumba style quarantine song which my family now knows by heart. Not only did their new Instagram account stay.homas garner nearly 170K followers in ten days. They were also featured in The New Yorker and in a matter of ten short minutes, sold out a July concert which may not even occur.

The talented trio seeks to inform and offer hope with reggae, bossanova, rap, and rumba style songs. As well known Catalan artist, Pau Donés, stated recently,“Writing has the greatest effect when we are moved. For me it began when I was diagnosed with cancer five years ago and met so many kind, altruistic people who inspired me to write the song Guardian Angel.” Much like Donés, I too find writing to be more poignant when life throws us a curveball.

May we exit this pandemic as guardian angels of the world, with a heightened sense of awareness, empathy and strength so that the lens of humanity can finally become the one from which we choose to view life.

Stay home and safe.

Day four of our family’s quarantine.

Can we please fast forward two months?

These were the words our high school senior, Gisella, uttered earlier today. In an effort to steer her away from any sense of entitlement, I tried to convey to her the importance of perspective by imparting reminders of how fortunate we are, of the many who are homeless, live in cramped spaces, are losing lives, jobs and security. But this morning at 5AM insomnia took me on a global voyage before settling upon our home and ultimately on our ultra-social daughter for whom this lockdown has been the most difficult. The perspective I usually try to maintain was eclipsed by a different sort of clarity. One which summoned me at that very moment in the peace of dawn to quietly exit my room and snuggle up to her hoping to provide comfort.

Gisella hasn’t been able to see the only boyfriend she has ever had, is sad about her school closure and the fact that as a high school senior it is becoming increasingly likely that she will not experience her prom or graduation ceremony. She was also rejected from several universities despite her 3.95 GPA and nearly five times the necessary number of volunteer hours to graduate. But it is much more than that. Isolation from her friends who will, like her, soon be off to college, goes against her natural disposition. Gisella is a rare breed. At the age of five, much to her parent’s dismay, she handled injured bees on our terrace until they took flight. She refused having her horse groomed for her when partaking in equestrian competitions, completed nearly 300 hours of community service in high school, and has been an enormous support to her peers, some of whom have lost a parent, a sibling, tried to commit suicide, or have been seriously ill. Coming to the aid of others is a calling for her. We know it, her friends know it and we are all lucky to have her in our lives. 

Gisella’s brother, Dario, as a graduating senior is in the same boat and while he is experiencing similar feelings he has been able to adapt as has our youngest. I am thankful for the lightbulb that went off indicating that for her this is not a case of entitlement but more so one of her identity being challenged. She will survive this adversarial moment during which we hope to provide the comfort she needs.

As I ponder the opportunity we had to host Gisella’s boyfriend and forty-something friends for her school’s winter formal a few months ago, I feel ever so grateful. May we understand each other and our children fully so we can offer one another encouragement and support even if that means sending “perspective” out the door knowing full well that we will let it back in tomorrow.

I’ve been asked time and time again, what inspires my designs. My short answer? Everything!

I am an independent thinker who glides to the tune of an unscripted life. So while I love to throw a good party, dance ‘til I literally drop, and laugh from deep within, I am equally passionate about the world’s state of affairs, an enlightening book such as Sapiens, or the one I am currently reading, Talking to Strangers, and pruning our garden roses with the cascading sound of water from an adjacent fountain filling my senses.

My husband and I approach child rearing with an equal dose of fluidity. When our children were young, we poured our souls into it. We were relatively strict by limiting television to a few hours on the weekends only, and sweets to a bare minimum, for example. We read to them religiously and required that they too engage in silent sustained reading for at least thirty minutes a day. They were the last in their friend groups to receive phones (and much to their dismay, they were not smart ones either.) Today we move to a different tune, trusting that the lessons of years past have served, not only to give them a confident voice, but to aid them in making successful choices. In short, we live in the black, white and grey.

My approach to design, however, is neither black nor white, and certainly not grey. It is more of a thoughtful amalgam of the two former. I prefer five inch stilettos, and flat sandals or sneakers, for example, to kitten, Louis, or Cuban heels. And when it comes to interiors, I embrace a similar design concept by juxtaposing modern minimalism with grandeur. While the approach is far more difficult to achieve than committing to a single design style, the result can be awe-inspiring.

Photo: Fran Parente from Lolo's French Bloguette

Much in the same vein, our line continues to evolve with a combination of bold designs, art inspired ultra-modern pieces (18K Gallery Collection) and minimal designs. Today we are unveiling six of the latter which can be worn alone, together, or in conjunction with our bold designs. To learn more, click on a design. Happy shopping!

Never underestimate the power of pushing the envelope.

Designs by Alina jewelry…always exquisite, never ordinary.

It is, without a doubt, my favorite time of year, not only because the children are home, visitors abound, the air is crisper and horizon bluer, but I absolutely love decorating our home while the sweet aroma of cloves, cinnamon and ginger penetrate the air.

As a designer obsessed with creating beauty, the aftermath of ribbons, needles, flour, paper, tinsel, tape, and all the trimmings of the season can easily become a source of mayhem. Still, year after year, with a prevailing scent of Thanksgiving still floating through the air, we pile into the family car in search of the perfect Christmas tree. Dusty boxes which haven't seen the light of day for eleven months emerge while the children argue about who gets to put the angel on the tree, apple cider simmering in the distance.

Changing up the decor can easily spark an interesting conversation, but I love items that can stand up to the test of time, not to mention the joy that unfolds as we open an old box and unravel the tissue paper within to reveal seasonal gems. This year we added a few new pieces to our Christmas treasure trove like a sculpture we have had for fifteen years which I decided to decorate with winter white feathers.

When our youngest pleaded for us to buy Christmas stockings last year, a tradition our family hadn't embraced as my husband and I grew up with mangers in our childhood homes, one look at her beaming smile was all it took for me to welcome her proposal. I found these beautiful stockings at Anthropologie (which are 50% off this year) which I personalized with accessories from my local craft store.

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The key to holiday decor lies in personalization. Regardless of what it is that you fall in love with, give it a personal touch, even something as slight as a ribbon or color scheme can have a profound effect on the collective feel.

And as the celebrations continue, I must sign off but not before wishing you and your loved ones the happiest of holidays.

We are fortunate to live in such a loving and generous community where the desire to show gratitude is boundless. Local nonprofit leaders estimate that Santa Barbara County foundations collectively distribute about $150 million each year.

Earlier this month we were honored to partake in the Dream Foundation's Fifth Annual Endless Summer Dream featuring the latest styles from world-renowned fashion house, Oscar de la Renta. The event was held at the exquisite Nesbitt Estate in Summerland, California, where singers, synchronized swimmers, aerial acrobats and dancers transformed an autumn afternoon into a seemingly endless summer dream, befitting of the nonprofit’s mission to build and deliver dreams to terminally ill adults.

Event Co-Chair Arlene Montesano and son, Gianni

Says Dream Foundation’s Chief Executive Officer, Kisa Heyer, about the Annual Endless Summer event: “We’re always humbled and grateful as so many people give so generously in so many different ways to make the event possible.” While last year’s event gave birth to 100 final dreams, this year’s Endless Summer Dream is posed to be even more successful.

For more information visit www.dreamfoundation.org.

Dare to dream….Dream to give.

It’s all about timing. And she knew it.

On Monday, our daughter, Gisella, invited me on a sunset beach walk with the dogs. Our bond has been growing ever stronger despite the myths about how trying the teenage years can be. Admittedly, there are moments which disprove my words, but for the most part our twin high school seniors have been a tremendous fountain of joy making their imminent departure from the nest next year all the more daunting.

Had you asked me last week if I would have acceded to my daughter’s request, the answer would have been either an emphatic “no” or “could a cricket survive a gecko convention?” On the heels of our beach walk, not only was I feeling particularly loving, but with the news headlines coming at me in a flurry while I desperately tried to get a jewelry order out the door, my mind was elsewhere.

My acquiescence baffled us both.

And so it was that on a whim, just like with numbers one and two, our family welcomed puppy number three into our home. 

Today I am suffering from buyer’s remorse and told Gisella that we couldn’t keep her but because her tears proved more powerful than my words, we are giving it a try…

What did I just get myself into?!

*ADDENDUM: Soon after this post, the implications of what it meant to adopt a puppy for one who will soon fly the coop hit me like a cold shower. And as much as I wanted to please her, with an equal dose of sadness and clarity I walked back on my decision to adopt with the help of my bff. The pup, who was with us for less than twenty four hours, was returned to the breeder. In doing so she and I have learned a lesson or two about timing, caution and commitment.

“Why tempt perfection?” I thought.

Yes, I was once a purist when it came to flowers, rarely mixing them until our two year stint in San Francisco compelled me to turn over a new leaf. Our family has been fortunate to have had beautiful gardens in Santa Barbara from which I frequently cut flowers to embellish our interior spaces. The city however, challenged my penchant for floriculture as we hadn’t as much as a square inch of green. Determined to bring the outdoors in, I began to pay weekly visits to The Bud Stop near our Pacific Heights home, where my favorite floral artist created gorgeous bouquets for her clients on the spot.

Before long we were designing my bouquets together laying the foundation for my own exploration into mindful blending with varietals from San Francisco’s Flower Mart (second only to the one in L.A.) The joy I derive from flowers is such that a vendor hinted that I looked like a child in a candy store with covetous eyes and wide grin. He’s right, and I am happy to relive those moments while sharing some of the lessons I have learned along the way.

Mamma’s little helper at the San Francisco Flower Mart

 1) Grouping

Elevating or placing focal flowers in front as well as infusing round shapes with elongated ones for balance and drama is key. Balance can also be achieved by designing in odd numbers. I typically use three or five of a kind versus four or six unless I am using a very large number of a single variety in which case I add them one by one until I achieve the desired look. Designers are often taught the value of symmetry, and in most scenarios I tend to agree. When it comes to floral art, however, I love the drama achieved by a departure from the norm such as elevating fillers on one side while allowing foliage to cascade on the other.

2) Adding fillers

I have never been a fan of tiny floral fillers like Baby’s Breath, favoring instead solid greens like lemon leaves, myrtle, or eucalyptus leaves depending on the hue and shape of the blossoms. This gives the arrangement a more refined look. I also love Hypericum berries (below) which are available in white, green, and shades of pink, peach and red.

3) Vases

Opt for vases that complement your blooms and their placement in the home keeping in mind that some flowers like tulips and lilies continue to grow in water. A taller vase would be better suited, for example, to an entryway or kitchen island than a nightstand. I like to infuse classic with modern by collecting glass, stainless steel, pewter and wooden containers. Because I am drawn to fusing classic, modern and country styles, I often alter vases with burlap, cork and/or ribbon.

4) Buy local

I have much respect for farmers who are up shortly after midnight setting up their booths at 3:00AM. While it may not always feasible, especially in some agricultural zones, I strive to support local suppliers who offer the freshest blooms. Furthermore most imported flowers negatively impact the environment as they require refrigeration and contain many chemicals to preserve them in preparation for transport.

5) Learn about seasonal varietals

Purchasing seasonal flowers to me is as natural as opting for seasonal vegetables and fruit. In Southern California we can still find garden roses well into November. As we head into winter, I enjoy designing with hydrangeas while incorporating gourds and pomegranates. Lilacs, which are mostly harvested in late April and May are an all time favorite of mine so I am always on the lookout for them. If a flower you love is out of season, consider similar ones. Garden-style spray roses, for example, are very similar to Ranunculus. If you are peony obsessed like I am, you will be happy to discover how similar some garden roses are to peonies (bottom left) like these David Austin Yves Piaget and O’Hara roses from our garden (below right).

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6) Feed your flowers

Always use flower food, especially on the first day as it really does make a difference. In a pinch I find that a 1/2 teaspoon of sugar and a few drops of bleach keep the flowers happy and water clear. One of the Santa Barbara Farmers Market vendors swears by a penny in the vase which seemingly aids in preventing bacteria growth, though I haven't found this method to be very effective.

7) Flower Maintenance

Cut the stems at an angle to insure maximum hydration and repeat this practice along with changing the water in your vase every 2-3 days. This is crucial to discourage bacteria growth. I don't find that refeeding makes much of a difference.

8) Tip for hydrangeas

Have you ever bought perfect hydrangeas only to discover that a couple of hours after placing them in your home they droop over seemingly on their last leg? I used to get quite frustrated until I discovered that they were simply thirsty. These elegant blooms need a lot of water and unlike most flowers they hydrate not only from the stem but from the petals too. Cut the stem at a very sharp angle and immediately submerge it in one inch of very hot water for 30 seconds. The heat breaks down the sap allowing the flower to absorb water. If they need an additional boost, try removing larger leaves because as gorgeous as they are, they may be robbing nutrients from the bloom. You can also try misting them with water, but be mindful of adjacent flowers, most of which have an aversion to moisture.

The most important tip I can impart is that you give yourself ample time to experiment. On several occasions I have spent the better part of an hour on a single vase! So pour yourself a glass of wine and enjoy the journey which is just as delightful as the finished bouquet!

When our daughter asked to see Billie Eilish perform in Los Angeles, I froze remembering that I had promised myself never again to attend a large venue concert. In 2014, our then eleven-year-old son reintroduced us to the Beatles while learning to play the bass. He could never have imagined the beautiful impact his musical choice would have had on our family. The memories of the five of us dancing around the kitchen island to Here Comes the Sun and his favorite All My Loving are forever etched in our minds. My husband and I were excited to take him to see Paul McCartney at Candlestick Park, the last scheduled event in the 54-year-old stadium. His joy that evening was priceless, but being stranded until the wee hours of the morning in an unfamiliar town, had me literally shaking in my boots. I vowed to forever forego the urban madness in favor of our beautiful Santa Barbara bowl, where top notch performers like Rod Stewart, Katie Perry, and Sting perform under the stars.

But…

Three days before Billie Eilish was scheduled to play in LA, I was told that the venue was not the beast I had imagined but the Shrine Auditorium where I had covered the Academy Awards in the late nineties. At one tenth the size of its Candlestick Park cousin, the Shrine was definitely doable so a few moms embarked on an L.A. adventure with eight preteen/teen girls to see the concert of their dreams. Like five years ago with our son, the experience was thrilling. Nothing compares to bearing witness to your child’s emotionally charged cries of joy.

I was pleasantly surprised to discover that the South Park district of downtown L.A. where we stayed, was completely devoid of trash, a permanent fixture along with many homeless people just a decade ago.

An iconic beacon of change in an ever-evolving downtown, our Hotel Figueroa oozed L.A. culture with a nod to the past, not least by showcasing compelling works by local and international artists, continually reminding us that we were experiencing the city’s thriving art scene at every turn.

The boutique appeal of this downtown landmark is undeniable. Flanked on one side by a Spanish style fireplace and on the other by Veranda restaurant, the pool is in equal measure breathtaking and quaint. Rather than defying the skyscraper surroundings, Hotel Figueroa embraces them with a multistory mural reminiscent of the classic-modern fig tree wallpaper I fell in love with in our bathroom.

The hotel boasts three restaurants and two bars, one of which is located in the lobby lounge where the breakfast buffet is served. Bar Figueroa is in one word “sexy,” with perfectly mismatched furniture and trendsetting art exquisitely juxtaposed with Spanish Colonial architecture, an ambitious design aesthetic which Hotel Figueroa achieves flawlessly. The idea of kicking off the day in a sun-kissed room, hinting at the night before, is yet another example of opposing design elements which coexist in perfect harmony.

The room decor echoed that of the lobby, an exquisite marriage of today and yesteryear. The only downside is that there was neither a mini bar nor room service at night which seemed like an opportunity lost. We returned from the concert at 11:30 with our hearts set on some pintxos (the Basque word for Spanish tapas or appetizers) from the hotel’s Breva Restaurant which had closed a half hour earlier. The concierge recommended ordering from L.A. Cafe, but our delivery arrived nearly an hour later when we were already asleep.

I am not eager to attend an event at the nearby Staples or Convention Center, but there is no question that next time DTLA calls, I’ll come running…straight to the Hotel Figueroa (and I will be certain to order some pintxos when I do!)

Hotel Figueroa, 939 S. Figueroa Street, Los Angeles, California 90015

Photos 1, 3, 9, 10, 20, 21 : courtesy of Hotel Figueroa. All others: Designs by Alina

Change is cathartic even when we don’t like it.

For the most part I have been flying high ever since we returned to our beloved Santa Barbara in 2016. Two weeks ago we took the children to Spain and Greece, an experience replete with ups and downs, the latter, I assume due to modern day society in which families ostensibly live separate lives under the same roof.

As a child, I spent most of my free time with my brothers, riding bikes, jumping rope and playing jacks, later spending it with friends and absorbing new cultures for I had lived in three continents by the time I was sixteen. Television was enjoyed alongside my siblings and/or parents, daily family dinners were never optional, and on Sundays my father would usher us into the living room to share new discoveries from the Encyclopedia Britannica. For better or worse, human interaction was the norm as my life unfolded.

Cut to the Computer Age.

Never in the history of humankind have we experienced such rapid change. Gone are the days of continuous sibling interaction, spontaneous bike rides, jump rope and jacks. Instead parents carpool their children all over Timbuktu for exercise and social interaction. Now that our teen twins and their friends drive, that lifestyle continues to keep them entertained, though more often than not, the interaction between a half dozen kids in the same room is usurped by their iphones. We strive to follow weekend brunches with board games which our youngest has wittily dubbed “bored games,” her fingers itching to tap, type, and scroll. We encourage the children to sit with us in the library to read, but I find myself getting irritated with their inability to stay focussed and end up insisting that they place their phones in the kitchen. Our three television sets take a back seat to laptops which lure them away from us and each other with infinite on-demand entertainment choices. Sunday family movie nights have become increasingly challenging as we all struggle to agree on what to watch. My husband and I are no exception. Hard-wired with “Encyclopedia Sundays”, I desperately seek educational or inspirational content from which the children might learn while my husband wants them to simply have fun. (It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who is the first to get outvoted.) In an effort to keep the peace our Sunday movie nights have dwindled down to bi-monthly movie nights, and even then the five of us are rarely, if ever, present.

Our aforementioned trip presented its share of challenges. Being together in tight spaces (airplanes, taxis, hotel rooms) with intermittent internet access meant that we were obligated to interact with one another continuously, something that modern life does not foster. Furthermore we were scheduled to visit friends and family in Barcelona, including my elderly mother who is in an assisted living facility. Less freedom of choice was tantamount to conflict. Images of my childhood and adolescence surfaced leading me to crave a roadmap for present day child rearing. But all I could think of was: “We are the guinea pigs of digital age parents,” while trying to remember that so too are our children.

I am infinitely grateful for the sometimes arduous trajectory which brought me to the present, life overflowing with love and abundance. Notwithstanding, excessive scrutiny of modern day parenting coupled with the fascinating book I am reading, Sapiens, by Yuval Noah Harari, led to a myriad feelings which may have been responsible for my melancholic mood today, lending credence to the aphorism “ignorance is bliss.”

On my way home from dropping our daughter off to her city college class, I decided to take the beach route home for some respite. Listening to I Know by the Gypsy Kings, the Spanish band which saw me through my thirties, with the morning sun and palm trees in view, I was disappointed to discover that my somber mood did not ameliorate, quite the contrary it deepened. Rather than fighting the feeling I decided to embrace it, parked the car and set foot on the ground of my beloved Santa Barbara, owning my melancholic mood.

Feeling calm with a renewed perspective, I returned home and reached out to our tween daughter with whom I had experienced the most friction on our trip. I encouraged her to come to my room, where the Gypsy Kings belted out a tune, and we ended up dancing to my music and hers (Billy Eilish) to our heart’s content.

The true value of introspection is clarity. It is important to slow down, to step away from questioning and judging ourselves, especially in today’s inattentive world. My job as a parent is critical, and while my parenting skills (and those of my husband) are far from perfect, I am certain that we are doing our absolute best. That should be, and is, good enough.

Today’s events left me with the realization that I may have been confusing melancholy with nostalgia, a desire to revive, not my own past, but that of mankind, despite knowing that I am happier today than ever before. And because the present cannot be fully appreciated without the past, I will continue to exhibit deference to all the feelings (melancholic or not) that life brings, cognizant of the fact that the ability to feel is life’s greatest gift.

Chances are that if you don’t live in California, what first springs to mind are sandy beaches, Hollywood, Silicon Valley and the Golden Gate Bridge. But farmland?

Absolutely!

Meet Marfarm, a chic new bed and breakfast located midway between Los Angeles and San Francisco in the heart of Edna Valley’s wine country. The converted barn, which is attached to a working horse stable for a true farm stay experience, is set upon sixty luscious acres with a 360 degree view of rolling hills, each acre meticulously cultivated.

We met the proprietors, Jill and Hamish Marshall, several years ago at a dinner party and became fast friends. Our better halves exchanged stories of life abroad while Jill and I bonded over our joie de vivre and love of design, in particular the use of juxtaposed textures, colors and design elements. In fact, it was Jill who inspired me to launch Designs by Alina back in 2014.

Hamish’s “no worries mate” attitude coupled with Jill’s warmth, wit, and exceptional eye for design, make them the perfect gatekeepers of this secluded oasis. And while Edna Valley may not sound like the place a gifted designer and Aussie adventurer would call home, a simple glance at the haven they have created makes it clear that this is exactly where they need to be.

“Hamish was based here for development back in 1995,” explains Jill. “When I graduated from design school with a jewelry degree, I was persuaded to fall in love with him by my mother. I finally conceded and we’ve been very happily married in Edna Valley for 22 years.” The Marshall world has grown since then with two daughters, four dogs, a cat, a cow, a pig, sixteen horses, twenty-two chickens, a donkey, a new B&B and llamas on the way.

In deference to its roots, the barn interiors are accented in green to complement the original 1930’s dairy floor. Every detail from the Spanish chandelier pendant fabricated with recycled soda bottles and grasses, to the linen bedding, rugged Argentinian throws, and Moroccan tiles hinting at old Americana quilts, attest to Jill’s unrelenting attention to detail and superb design aesthetic.

While beauty and originality abound at every turn, the 9 hand carved wood horned bull heads are a sight to behold. Imported from Bali, these fascinating sculptures can be showcased with 1200 possible light scenarios, though the Marshalls have opted to greet their guests with warm shades of green and sunset rose.

Marfarm’s refined rustic-meets-modern design, perfectly suitable for a wedding or weekend getaway, is an ongoing labor of love. A designer after my own heart, Jill espouses the idea that subtle details speak volumes: “Just being there, placing flowers, cutting fresh fruits, setting the dimmers just right, lighting French candles, making the bar look perfect with wines and fur beer cozies is like playing house, and all those little details offer our guests a visual explosion.”

So next time you wish to discover a place less traveled and simply divine, look no further than Marfarm in San Luis Obispo, where beauty, serenity and joy await. www.marfarm.com

Photos credits: Marfarm and Alina de Albergaria

I love words.

Having earned a living for the better part of two decades as a television producer, host, and writer, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t. However, sometimes words are superfluous, detracting us from the point. So I will merely mention that following a seven year drought, Santa Barbara has finally taken her sweet revenge. Verdant hills and unfamiliar flora abound like the proteas I discovered in our garden yesterday.

Yellow Protea Pincushion

Aren’t they stunning? In a state of sheer fascination, I fetched my camera to immortalize them and their many companions. Budding persimmons, cherries, plums, peaches, grapes, apples and guavas lie in wait for summer, while avocados, lemons, oranges, grapefruit and tangerines are on the verge of being devoured. Ah, but the roses!

Each spring I feel increasingly grateful for life’s abundance.

And I am fairly certain that this year I am in good company.

Dedicated to Neri, whom our family misses dearly, and to our 🐩 🐩 who love the garden as much as we.

Much like the flora and fauna, we have been programmed to anticipate and adapt to the changing seasons, virtually by instinct. This is especially true now that the sweet scent of orange blossoms permeates the air, hinting at heat around the bend.

This year the season swooped in without warning, taking me to the City of Angels with my youngest in tow, while our teens spawned spring break plans of their own. We stayed in my old neighborhood, at the Peninsula where our daughter enjoyed one of my favorite rooftop pools in town, while I met with colleagues. Located in the heart of Beverly Hills just blocks from Rodeo Drive, the Peninsula caters to the discerning traveler with a penchant for understated elegance and stellar service. The tone of discreet beauty is evident from the moment a band of trees sneaks into view, encircling the classic Renaissance style hotel as though shielding it from bustling city streets. In similar fashion, the hotel retains a couple of chauffeurs so one might avoid the frustration that comes along with driving in Los Angeles. (Think William Foster in Falling Down).

Suite, patio and cabana photos: courtesy of the Peninsula Hotel. All others, property of Designs by Alina.

We reserved a car just once on the way back from dinner because we love to stroll, always choosing hotels that are on (or near) walking streets. Once you have seen the obligatory Rodeo Drive and Beverly Wilshire Hotel (where Pretty Woman was filmed) consider venturing south of Wilshire Boulevard, away from the tourists, to S. Beverly Drive, home to local boutiques and lively restaurants like Urth Caffe, where celebrity sightings are not uncommon. (I have spotted Jessica Alba and Gwyneth Paltrow among others, while enjoying my morning latte.) The pastries are hit or miss so I now opt for an omelette or French toast, and when I am craving a buttery, flakey pastry, Chaumont, one block north of Urth Caffe, is delicious.

LA quirkiness at its Hollywood best, anyone? Head on over to the Spadena House (aka the Witch’s House) four blocks north of the hotel on Walden Drive. This city landmark, known for its whimsical, intentionally decrepit style, was designed in 1922 by Harry Oliver, an Art Director who later influenced Storybook architecture.

The Spadena House, Beverly Hills

Our hotel’s Belvedere restaurant offers delicious Mediterranean-inspired fare with a focus on locally sourced ingredients and wild-caught seafood. While the setting is lovely, lunch felt a little more tame than our mood, so we ventured out for the rest of our stay. Here are a few of my new and old favorites:

Brunch/lunch: Fred’s rooftop restaurant at Barneys has it all: farmers-market-fresh fare and a spectacular view of the Hollywood Hills. Another popular spot is The Farm (try the tuna three-ways). Then there is Sugarfish where your taste buds come to life with mouth watering sushi that will leave you clamoring for more. Be warned, however, not to ask for miso soup, cooked fish or dessert because, well, there is none. Sugarfish is all about simplicity stemming from exceptional ingredients. Ah, what I wouldn’t do for one of Chef Nozawa’s toro hand rolls right about now! Founded in 1983, The Ivy on Robertson is brimming with flowers, making you feel as though you are in a country cottage rather than the industry darling it continues to be. And while it is pricier than most restaurants in the neighborhood, you will not be disappointed from the moment you are greeted with a glass of chilled champagne.

Dinner: The places I used to frequent as a resident years ago, are more than just relevant today: Il Cielo (Italian cuisine) still tops my list for the most romantic garden setting. And like Il Cielo, Spago (Wolfgang Puck’s flagship restaurant) has been around for decades and continues to be a front-runner. These restaurants are superb, though many would argue that West Hollywood is where the hottest new eateries are, and I tend to agree. My husband and I gauge our dining experiences a bit differently: he is a stickler for outstanding fare whereas I seek out beautiful design and a lively, unpretentious ambiance. That said, if you are up for a short drive to West Hollywood, we both recommend Catch, Eveleigh, or Lucques.

Last but not least, if you have a sweet craving at four o’clock in the morning or want to surprise your little one while you sleep in, the world’s first cupcake ATM Sprinkles on the corner of Santa Monica Boulevard and N. Camden is available twenty-four hours a day.

Sugarfish, Beverly Hills

Yes, my husband and I are foodies and our children don’t fall far from the tree, but the greatest gift this time around had little to do with my palate or business. Pounding the same streets I did for so many years as a young woman in television, with my daughter beside me was really some kind of wonderful. But to stand in front of my old Beverly Hills apartment with someone who might have only touched my heart back then by way of a wondrous dream? Well, that, was nothing short of surreal!

Whether you have sprung forward in a matter-of-course, or added a touch of nostalgia for good measure, we wish you and your loved ones a glorious season of bloom.

Today I share a piece of my heart.

To many, Venezuela is just another poverty stricken country. To me, however, it is the place in which, for the first time in my life, I had extended family. It is the birthplace of my mother and is where I met my beloved uncle/godfather, the most gentle, kind, loving, loyal human being I have ever known, the one who would later walk me down the aisle and cradle our newborn children.

Venezuela hosted our family on virginal beaches with gaitas, salsa, and merengue, where fisherman asked what we wanted for lunch, bringing it to us minutes later from the sea.

It also hosted us in the Andes where my fondest memories of New Year's celebrations live. I can still see the sparks we made on the pavement those nights alongside children unbeknownst to us who, too poor to own skates like we did, partook nonetheless on improvised carretas made with ball bearings and wood, our joint laughter painting the streets with year-end mementos, devoid of social barriers. 

I witnessed vast differences in the way people lived: some with heartfelt smiles showcasing brown, rotting teeth, and others who spent their weekends shopping in Miami. Nonetheless, friendly demeanors hinted at how Venezuelans, from all walks of life, seemed grateful to live in such a majestic country. The years I lived there, in conjunction with those spent in the United States and England, helped shaped my worldview, and I am grateful for the grit, determination and compassion with which those experiences have armed me for adulthood. 

But Venezuela today is a far cry from the land I once knew, the wealthiest in all of Latin America. Venezuelans have collectively lost twenty-five percent of their body weight due to food shortages, while ninety percent live in poverty (Reuters). Civil unrest, hyperinflation and crime have sadly become synonymous with Venezuela since the turn of this century. To date, three million people have fled, including members of my own family, most leaving behind a country deeply loved.  

Today I celebrate the nation’s natural beauty, stand by its warm people, and wish for healing and peace in the years to come.

As a designer obsessed with creating beauty, the aftermath of ribbons, needles, flour, paper, tinsel, tape, and all the trimmings of the season can easily become a source of mayhem. Still, year after year with the scent of Thanksgiving still floating through the air, we pile into the family car in search of the perfect Christmas tree. Dusty boxes which haven't seen the light of day for eleven months emerge while the children argue about who gets to put the angel atop the tree, apple cider simmering in the distance.

Note to self: Next year it’s our son’s turn.

While switching up the decor will definitely spark an interesting conversation, I love items that can stand up to the test of time not to mention the joy that unfolds as we unearth a dusty old box and unravel the tissue paper within to reveal seasonal treasures.

This year our youngest pleaded for us to buy Christmas stockings, a tradition our family hadn't embraced as my husband and I grew up without them in our childhood homes. One look at her beaming smile as I pondered the idea was all it took for me to welcome her proposal.

Both Fig and Dove and One Kings Lane, trusted sources of mine, had several options but neither convinced me that they should author our newest addition. Neiman Marcus and Sferra Linens offered a few contenders which paired together well, though they fell short of the quintet our family required. 

And then a lightbulb went off.

If year after year Anthropologie manages to pull off the perfect Christmas window, surely they would have a stocking (or five) that I’d like. Voilá!

North Pole Stocking from Anthropologie

I couldn’t locate enough coordinating stockings to round out the lot so I headed over to my local craft store in search of accessories to personalize them, my favorite being small rounds of birchwood onto which I hand-wrote initials with a calligraphy pen.

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Whether your heart strings guide you toward a path of tradition, modernity or somewhere in between, follow that lead and enjoy the journey that is the spirit of the season.

It’s late…the Christmas trail I left behind in my studio can wait until morning, but the smile I saw on my daughter’s face when I pondered her idea? Hmmm, if I sign off now, I just might get another one of those!

And to all a good night.

My favorite sound in the world is a child’s laughter, something I feel lucky to experience on a daily basis in our home. 

This weekend, however, the harrowing noise emanating from above was anything but cheerful, amplifying itself as though our home existed for that sole purpose. I remember being driven to rage myself at her age and decided to let her find respite in her chilling wails while I found mine by way of a keyboard.

Is it any wonder that there is no manual for the most critical, fulfilling and difficult job in the world? How could there be when every family’s circumstance is different, each parent bringing a diverse set of values, experiences and unique skill set to the table? Most of us who take the job seriously are on an endless quest to improve upon our own upbringing by embracing what worked and discarding what didn’t. We must rethink, remold, reshape, and repurpose ideas for every stage of a child’s life as he or she morphs in perpetuity.

Our son has self imposed boundaries making it easy for us to be laxed with him. Our daughters, on the other hand, move to a different tempo. I remember how terrified I was the first time I saw our eldest, at the age of five, handling a bee. A whisperer of sorts, she reached for a fallen one gently placing it in the palm of her hand until it flew away. It took some time for her to convince me that she knew what she was doing, but calmly observing and listening to her enabled me to shed my fear and embrace her determination and self confidence. She must have handled several dozen bees that spring and was never stung. Around the same time, she mounted her first horse taking to equestrian life like a hummingbird to nectar. Again, while I felt apprehensive, I knew that what she stood to gain emotionally and physically far outweighed my fears.

Empowering a child, among other factors, requires striking a balance between yielding to their wants and disallowing them. Thankfully, many years of Montessori followed by public and private schools have been invaluable in showcasing a variety of approaches and perspectives, collectively inspiring us to guide, observe, listen and evaluate, a practice we have followed (or attempted to follow) a thousand times over. For the most part this has enabled us to trust our children thus empowering them in the pursuit of a productive, stimulating, and fulfilling life.

As aware as I am of my parenting strengths, I am even more so of my weaknesses, the largest one being my inability at times to commit to a decision. (See Dear Ebba and Roberto for more on commitment phobia.) The constant wavering between a desire to please and listening to one’s own heart is confusing for a child, not to mention frustrating, which brings me back to my daughter’s disappointment earlier today.

An athletic fiend, or as my dear cousin would say “a life fiend,” our youngest approaches life with remarkable passion and determination, excelling at virtually every academic, creative, and athletic pursuit she tackles. Her love of slime, for example, led to the launch of her online shop while still in elementary school, earning her more spending money than she ever dreamed possible, but more importantly, it is teaching her invaluable lessons in entrepreneurship and responsibility.

Last summer, much like an alpine swallow in continuous flight, our daughter did not stop moving her body. Daily somersaults became the norm transforming our abode into a mobile gym with round-the-clock cartwheels, handstands, and flips until her body nagged for more.

I embraced it.

Until I didn't.

She was relentless, soon becoming obsessed with the idea of enrolling in a formal gymnastics class which spawned the feeling I had years ago when her sister mounted that first horse or held that first bee. It wasn’t so much that she had already committed herself four months prior to tennis, or that she was already stretched with lessons, clinics, her shop, friends and homework. Even in the best scenario, a small injury could easily keep her away from the court for weeks. But what worried me the most is that knowing how passionate she is about every pursuit, she would never have approached the sport from a recreational standpoint which elevated my fears. Furthermore, a family friend who is a spinal surgeon, told us that following four successful years of gymnastics, he forbade his own daughter from continuing because of the tragic spinal injuries he had seen. The harmony in our home was being threatened by my inability to take a stand, choosing instead to waver between wanting to support her (and my husband who was less apprehensive than I was) and listening to my own reasoning. Weeks of stonewalling and backpedaling came to a stand still when my husband finally told me that I could count on his support but only if I stood firm on my decision.

And so it was that we informed our child that we were no longer on board with gymnastics outside of our home. Feeling betrayed, she chose to let off the vehement steam I described earlier, avoiding me for the rest of the day. Later that evening, still melancholic but no longer angry, she asked me to snuggle up with her to watch an episode of I Love Lucy. Different from most, that embrace felt as though she somehow understood the difficult choice I faced, and dare I say it was as though she appreciated it.

Four days have passed and while her sadness has abated, she continues to advocate for herself using every tool at her disposal, including a signed “contract” to convince us that she would never get hurt. I am proud of her resourcefulness and must admit that I nearly buckled twice. But remembering that I too had a lesson to learn aided me in keeping the temptation at bay.

Did we do the right thing?

That million dollar question will likely never be answered. What I do know is that despite the fact that I have managed to stand firm on my decision, our daughter continues to hop onto our bed in search of the snuggles I am so eager to give.

And that is good enough for me.

Having lived in five countries and three continents between us, my husband and I are happy to call Santa Barbara home. The ease of life, weather and relaxed sophistication of the American Riviera is unparalleled, and so long as I allow myself a city fix every now and then to further fuel my soul and creativity, there is nowhere else in the world I would dream of calling home.

I feel fortunate to have experienced Tokyo, London, New York, Buenos Aires, Montreal, Paris, Marrakech, Istanbul, and Vienna among other cities. This month, our annual honeymoon revival took us to Lake Como, by way of Milan, Zürich and Barcelona.

Those of you who follow this blog know that I am obsessed with travel and canonizing beauty via Instagram. But our return to Milan called for something more audacious, something that took me back to my television days, this time, however, I would be confined to only one side of the lens. And so it was that my stealthy camera visually eavesdropped its way around the Quadrilatero d'Oro immortalizing the city’s fashion pulse.

Milano’s sartorial world is now far more relaxed than I remember, evidence perhaps, that globalization has not left it unscathed. Notwithstanding, the style is vibrant and deliberate, still celebrating color with seemingly more zeal than its American counterparts. Much like in New York and other fashion meccas, athletic shoes rule, and whether a woman favors classic, casual, or the avant garde, ever present is the conscious manner in which she combines them with her wardrobe, hinting at the world behind the threads.

The bold style approach wielded by Milanese women encouraged me to be equally camera-bold, and knowing my subjects would be uncovered in the best of light, made my job that much easier.

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In the evening we met up with our friend Deborah, a style icon in her own right, and her partner, Christian. Following a midnight tour of the city, we dined at Bistro da Giacomo to our heart’s content while learning more than we could possibly retain about pepper varieties and the Scoville Pepper Heat Scale from our enthusiastic waiter.

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The next day we bid addio to Italy’s vestiary capital with many a moment etched in my heart. My city fix was further enhanced the following weekend by a Hollywood getaway, giving my soul plenty of fuel to last throughout the holidays. Or not.

Thanks to my groom for being my mostly-willing partner in crime, and for resisting the temptation to toss my furtive camera into the lake.

There is some exciting news for you! But let's rewind a bit...

As my husband and I begin to ponder our annual honeymoon revival, I am reminded of the memories we have accumulated over the years and feel an immense sense of gratitude for life's many blessings.

Years ago, our friend, Michael Corrigan, invited us along with six other couples to experience his beloved Loire Valley. We initially declined his generous invitation as our daughter was barely ten months old, and as much as France was calling, I couldn't bear to part from her. Ever a gracious host, Michael insisted that we bring her along and so it was that she became the seventeenth member of our coterie. 

Michael arranged for us to stay at his brother, Timothy Corrigan's, stunning Chateau du Grand Lucé. A simple glance at the estate explains why the renowned designer has been touted as one of the "world's top talents in architecture and interior design" by Architectural Digest. An unapologetic oasis, everything about it was majestic from exquisite antiques, to bold color play, to what seemed to be miles of taffeta flowing throughout palatial rooms.

If you haven't ventured into the Loire Valley, consider doing so, for there is much more to do and see than you might imagine. Our stay included visits to the Le Mans racetrack and the Cadre Noir French Military Riding School. Chartres Cathedral offered an abundance of the most magnificent stained glass stories I have ever seen (to call them simply “windows” would not do them justice). We also visited one of the many wineries in the region, the birthplace of Sancerre, my favorite white wine on the planet. Fabulous in of itself, our adventure would have not been complete without the equestrian visit our host arranged to Château de Chambord.

So here’s the news…

We just heard that this stunning chateau will open its doors to the public in 2019. So next time you make your way to France, consider discovering the beauty of the Loire Valley and keep an eye out for the Hotel Chateau du Grand Lucé.

Destination wedding anyone?

My mother used to say that the sun was her boyfriend even when my father's work kept him close to home. But much to her heart's lament, those sanctioned trysts in Venezuela and Los Angeles all but disappeared when we moved to England.

Today the Hot Springs Trail in Montecito, California, has become my own family's paramour. Located just five minutes from home, she has authored countless De Albergaria adventures in nearly every weather condition imaginable.

Nearly every condition, but thankfully not all.

With a craving of its own, the 2017 Thomas Fire (Christmas on Fire: A Tale of Silver Lining) had ominous plans for our beloved trail, holding her hostage to its wrath over the course of four harrowing weeks. What was left in its wake was an apocalyptic rendition of her former self.

Photo by Bernardo de Albergaria, January 8, 2018

On the heels of our return from Carmel under mandatory evacuation orders, my husband once again took to the trail with our son unaware that they were unwitting participants in the calm before the storm.

Literally.

The very next day, Hot Springs would meet an even more nefarious fate with a deadly deluge that would forever alter the trail's landscape, and more importantly, the very souls of the people she served.

Steady reminders of that tragic event depleted me of the courage I needed to revisit my muse. But when I finally found the strength to hug that trail, I was immediately spellbound by her pastoral grace. From mere rock and soot, wildflowers sprouted at every turn with an ashen backdrop shifting into light, an allegory for life itself.

We are the cumulation of our sorrows and joys, wins and losses, timidity and boldness. This very concept of humanity as the cumulation of life's contradictions is a concept I weave into jewelry and interior design.

The lesson emboldened by the recent events our community continues to endure may have been set in motion for me through my mother's own fading sun. And while there is still much to learn, taking pause to acknowledge life's ephemeral beauty is one teaching I hope to keep within my grasp in the years ahead.

June, 2016

June, 2018

Just like C Magazine celebrates California's vibrant lifestyle, its sister publication, Santa Barbara Magazine celebrates Santa Barbara’s rich and colorful lifestyle with award-winning editorial on Santa Barbara people, homes and gardens, architecture, fashion, food and wine, history, arts, and dreamy escapes.

Since its inception Santa Barbara Magazine has been one of my favorite lifestyle magazines so naturally we are thrilled to be featured in the magazine's latest issue as The GOLD Standard.

The piece introduces our 18K Gallery Collection, a highly textured 18K gold and diamond jewelry line inspired by modern art and handcrafted in California. The collection was launched this spring at a private event to raise funds for the Carolyn Glasoe Bailey Foundation and is now available to the public. 

I have a crush on Instagram.

Okay, I said it.

A couple of years ago I was told by a social media guru that Instagram was essential for my business. Fearing that it would keep me from my beloved world of design, I begrudgingly took her advice and dove head first into the new realm. Little did I know that it would become another catalyst for creativity.  

But the way I approach it today is a far cry from when I began. Much like my blog has morphed into a lifestyle journal, our Instagram feed is more like a lifestyle magazine which keeps Designs by Alina and our followers happy.

Whether or not you are a brand, you don't have to be a professional photographer or have a crew behind you to create beautiful content. While it may seem daunting at first, as with anything in life, a good dose of passion and persistence coupled with these five #instatips will pave the way to a beautiful feed.

1) USE ONLY HIGH QUALITY PHOTOS

This should go without saying but many times we become attached to a moment and post a poor quality image even though instinct tells us that it will drive a dagger right through our page. A poor quality image will never yield a gorgeous feed and if gorgeous is your goal, you need to nix it. Do you have a high end camera? Use it! Sure, it creates a lot more work but the result is well worth it.

2) CHOOSE A THEME AND STICK WITH IT

Random may be ideal when shuffling through a playlist or drawing a name for a raffle but when it comes to creating a beautiful aesthetic, posting random photos will have the opposite effect. One of the biggest mistakes I see on Instagram is inconsistency. One day there is a field of intensely colored flowers, the next an ill begotten selfie followed by a random repost and a washed out rock concert. If you are using Instagram to share moments with family and friends, this is perfectly fine and indeed is one of the many purposes of the app. But if your passion is beauty or you are a brand, you will be better served to approach Instagram as a curator approaches an art exhibit.  

Below are two well achieved examples. In the first, @aurelycerise has chosen a careful array of colorful, minimalist photography, while @designstuff has curated a lovely collection of mildly hued photographs to display their wares.

Photo courtesy of: @aurelycerise

Photo courtesy of @designstuff

@bkstreetart on the other hand takes on a more bold approach with urban art. In all cases the feed is driven by a theme.

Photo courtesy of of @bkstreetart

3) KEEP IT BALANCED 

For me this is one of the most crucial and yet most difficult qualities to achieve. It is frustrating to spend time and energy working with a specific image only to notice too late that it has upset the equilibrium in your feed A client of mine introduced me to a wonderful app, Preview, which allows you to plan out your content. I have been using it for several weeks and can't imagine parting with it. EVER. Preview allows me to post life as it unfolds while still maintaining a certain aesthetic. 

Here is a look at my feed before and after using the Preview app:

@designsbyalina before using the Preview app.

In the above example, I shot the images with a Sony Alpha 6000 in ideal lighting, however, as a whole the feed feels heavy which detracts from each photo. The jewelry is one-sided which further upsets the balance.

Below is @designsbyalina’s current Instagram feed. Notice how the product photos are carefully juxtaposed as are the minimal with the more extravagant ones. While most shots narrate life as it unfolds, there is no reason not to pull out the oldies but goodies that everyone loves to help drive the lifestyle narrative. That said, if there is an event that might upset the balance in your feed that you must post, by all means do. You can decide whether or not to delete it later. 

@designsbyalina after using the preview app.

4) POST ORIGINAL CONTENT

When I first got my feet wet in the instaworld, I reposted a lot because I assumed I needed to show how our designs would look with current trends and styles, so rather than forging ahead with my own aesthetic, I was on an endless quest for content. This approach not only failed to fulfill my own need to create but it also failed to engage my followers because it was neither authentic nor cohesive. Had I listened to my heart and instinct, I would have put to good use the words I always share with my children: 

Indeed, if you approach your feed with a passion for design and beauty rather than a race to gain a following, you are more likely to engage than if you drive yourself crazy searching through someone else's content.

           EXCEPTIONS

• If your profile is designed for the sole purpose of sharing content rather than posting original content, which in turn adds value to both your profile and that of the content owner like these: @wedphotoinspiration, @world_shotz @justgoshoot and @thebest_capture

Photos courtesy of @thebest_capture

• If it genuinely ties in with your business and feed. For the most part the Instagram community appreciates originality and authenticity. If you are a brand, that is a must. But if and when someone else's content relates to yours, it makes sense to use it.

In either case, there is a lot of time and money behind content, especially if you are a brand, so please give credit where credit is due. I have had a couple of situations arise with my own images and jewelry that were highly unethical. In one case, an interior designer posted an image as her own. I later realized that this was not an isolated incident as other designers posted comments requesting they be given credit. Similarly one of our necklaces was used for a magazine feature in which only the boutique that carried our jewelry was credited. The magazine had no idea that the necklace was ours and quickly credited us on Instagram and the online version of the feature (for print it was too late). I subsequently dropped the account which misappropriated our jewelry. So the rule of thumb is: if it's not yours, give proper credit. Similarly, when using branded hashtags, you are essentially telling the hashtag creator that you agree to have your content reposted, but that does not eliminate their obligation to credit you.

5) DON'T BE AFRAID TO EXPERIMENT

If like me, you are the sole creator of your Instagram content, building your feed can seem overwhelming at first. Our feed has evolved over time, something that could only be achieved with dedication, trial and error. Play with different filters to create a cohesive unique aesthetic. If you don't like it, delete it. If you want to move in a new direction, "just do it!" But most of all, let your passion and authenticity guide you.

Enjoy the process and result!

Like our feed? Follow us here @designsbyalina

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Designs by Alina seeking beauty with passion.