• I got a color analysis done by an expert, who looked at my undertones to see what I should wear.
• She told me I'm a "soft autumn," so I look best in muted earth tones or neutrals, not bright shades.
• Moving forward, I plan to incorporate some of the colors from my ideal palette into my wardrobe.

In my younger years, I was known for dressing in bold colors: Why go with a ho-hum neutral when I could stand out in fuchsia, red, or neon orange?

I still adore those shades. But now that I'm in middle age and often traveling for work and leisure, I gravitate toward wearing black for ease and practicality's sake. After all, a suitcase full of black staples is guaranteed to match.

Surely, neither of these extremes was ideal for my lifestyle or complexion — not to mention my sense of personal style — and I was determined to figure out a better way to dress.

So, I made an appointment to get answers from a pro. While shopping at the Kildare Village outside Dublin, I met with senior stylist Sinéad Kelly, who is trained in color theory.

The 45-minute analysis, which costs 100 euros, shifted the way I think about choosing the clothes I wear.

The analysis mostly focused on my undertones

At Kildare Village, Kelly's team uses a method they call the "Perfect Palette" to help shoppers figure out which hues they might want to wear or shy away from.

"By determining your skin undertone, eye color, and hair color, we can ascertain what color suits best," she said.

The method uses a system characterized by seasons and color temperature. For example, winter and summer lean cool. Spring and fall lean warm. From there, each palette has different categories in levels of brightness and intensity.

That said, analyzing your colors to see which shades could flatter you the most goes back decades. Methods vary from testing fabric swatches against one's skin to sending photos of oneself wearing a range of colors to an expert.

In my case, Kelly used colorful pieces of fabric draped around my neck like a collar to test shades while evaluating my appearance: lighter skin with yellow undertones, blond hair, blue-green eyes.

From there, she determined my ideal palette as "soft autumn."

So, colors I look best in include muted, earthy tones, like warm browns, olive greens, subtle peaches, and soft taupes.

My ideal palette had a few more vibrant tones, but none of the ultra-bright and dramatic colors I've always felt drawn to.

This revelation was staggering to me: Before my hyper-focus on practicality shifted my looks toward black on black, I'd always gravitated toward the kind of bright colors that, according to my analysis, are not great for me.

In fact, "bold, bright, cool colours" in general (yes, including my favorite fuchsia) aren't recommended for me as "they are too strong and dominating" against my coloring, Kelly said.

"The colors are wearing you as opposed to you wearing the colors in a balanced and harmonious way," she explained.

It turns out my travel-staple black clothing is a bit too harsh against my skin and doesn't have a key place in my ideal palette, either.

My results gave me a lot to think about

All this matters because what you wear can change the way people perceive you at a glance.

"Color is the first thing people see, and the first thing they remember" about somebody, Kelly said. She said wearing your best colors can reflect positively on your facial features, brightening your skin tone, eye color, and hair color.

The right shades can make someone look energized, "waking up the face more than a cup of coffee ever will," she added. In my mind, this advice also translates to "the right colors can make you look younger" — a reasonable goal for me as a middle-aged mom.

Conversely, based on this analysis, those fuchsias and brights I always connected with can make me look older, sallow, and well … just not my best.

I don't need any help in that department, given my lifestyle includes a 6 a.m. daily wakeup routine and race to the school bus stop with two kids.

I plan to keep the results of this analysis in mind as I choose what to wear in the future

The color-analysis session gave me major food for thought.

When I'm collecting pieces for the capsule wardrobe I travel with and choosing my go-to outfits for events and meetings, I'll now lean into the muted, earthy tones that rarely caught my eye before.

I like the idea that these hues can warm up and brighten up those all-black looks I'd defaulted to for ease. This goal feels doable and aspirational for me as I continue to build my closet.

Although my ideal color palette is muted and I'm now more hesitant to return to wearing super-bright shades, I want to stay true to myself and focus on fun when I dress for trips and other adventures.

For now, I plan to weave my power neutrals into my wardrobe in a fun way by leaning into animal prints, which I've always loved.

This analysis has given me an excuse to wear more of them — and, right after my appointment, I bought a new brown leopard-print top that fits my style and my palette.

• When I was laid off from my job in 2019, I struggled to feel professional and personal value.
• I did freelance writing while I looked for full-time jobs, but then my business started booming.
• Five years later, I'm freelancing full-time — and I'm proud of the career I've built for myself.

The journalism industry is notoriously fickle, and I've watched many colleagues around me get laid off over the years. However, the same fate didn't reach me until I was 15 years into my career.

In 2019, I was called into a corporate office I'd never been to so a human-resources employee I'd never met could slide a packet of information about my layoff across the desk.

I didn't know it then, but this unfortunate situation would actually push me to create a far more fulfilling career for myself.

At first, I faced practical challenges and an even bigger identity crisis

Shortly after I was let go, I focused on logistics and practical concerns.

I was already over 40, and I feared I might never get another "real" job again. After all, younger talent can be desirable in many industries because they're often much cheaper to employ.

Thankfully, my two toddlers and I were able to move on to my spouse's insurance. Their group plan and stable income meant our short-term financials weren't as big of a pressing concern as they could've been.

Soon, I realized the hardest part of being laid off would be overcoming my new feelings of professional (and, by extension, personal) valuelessness.

Rather than remembering my career triumphs, I wondered what I'd done along the way to find myself in this situation. I forgot what my marketable skills were and felt like an imposter as I overhauled my résumé and applied to job after job.

Freelancing helped me find a new path

While job hunting, I started freelance writing as a stopgap measure to bring in some income and stay tethered to a sense of relevance.

Although I worked on some interesting projects, I took many assignments that I considered beneath my career experience in terms of content or compensation (or both).

A few months later, the coronavirus pandemic turned the world upside down. I still had no viable full-time job offers on the table.

The job market felt uncertain like many other things at that time. I assumed the worst outcomes for my work prospects — but the opposite reality bore out.

With so many people home, isolated, and glued to their screens, the demand for digital content seemed to soar, lifting my writing business right with it.

Work picked up steam until I was so booked I could pass on gigs that paid less and didn't feel very rewarding. I started really taking pleasure in full-time freelance writing.

From there, I began developing a brand identity, reading books for writing professionals, and enrolling in virtual conferences and classes for freelancers.

For the first time in a while, I felt enriched by my work and everything I was learning.

Eventually, I realized how much I loved my remade professional life

Within about a year, my business was booming, and I was even making more money than I'd made as a corporate employee.

I was thriving in a career I'd remade on my own terms. Eventually, I stopped applying for corporate jobs.

I like being independent and not stymied by a corporate setting, where shareholders can dictate policies that aren't in line with my values and bosses can control creative and business decisions that affect my work.

It's been over five years since I was laid off, and I'm still doing my thing. There are ebbs and flows and peaks of valleys, and the journalism industry is still far from stable.

However, I can still say with full sincerity that I love my job — and I feel gratitude when I remember the path that led me here.

• My family stayed at The Brando on an exclusive private island in French Polynesia.
• A stay in this one-bedroom villa could typically cost about $6,000 a night.
• The villa was right on the beach and had a private pool, outdoor tub, and great views.

An ultra-exclusive private island escape in French Polynesia, The Brando has been at the top of my bucket list for years.

I first heard of The Brando around the time Barack Obama spent a month there writing his memoir after leaving the White House in 2017. It came to mind again when Kim Kardashian hosted her lavish 40th birthday there in 2020.

Spread across a private South Pacific island 30 miles north of Tahiti, the property consists of just 35 private villas and one private residence, plus a central common space with three restaurants, as well as a staff village.

It seemed like the ultimate destination for private-island luxury and exclusivity — and I had to see it for myself. Finally, my family of four got the chance to stay in a one-bedroom villa for six nights in December.

As a travel writer, I received a discounted media rate for our stay at The Brando. Our stay (including food, drinks, and some activities) would typically cost about $6,000 a night — or about $36,000 total.

With these photos from my visit, take a look inside the lodging that comes with such an eye-popping price tag.

Each villa is marked with a covered arrivals area, set far away from the living space.

Each villa is fairly far apart from the next and shrouded in lush foliage.

A covered area in front of our villa protected our bikes from the nighttime rain and provided seating where we could rest in the shade.

A tree-lined pathway leads from the entrance to the villa.

To get inside our villa, we crossed a secluded, pier-like wooden walkway woven through the trees.

The central living area had room to lounge and a killer view.

The indoor living space of our one-bedroom villa was about 1,033 square feet.

The villa's front door opened to a central lounge area, set with a sofa and small dining table. The space also housed the bar and coffee station, plus a minibar and fridge.

Doors slid open to create a breezeway to the outside space, with spectacular pool and lagoon views.

The bedroom felt spacious and had more great views.

My husband and I slept great in the king-size bed in the primary bedroom.

When we checked in, the attendant who showed us around noted the retractable TV hiding beneath the bedroom's picture window.

He recommended we not use it, though, and instead enjoy the view of the stars and sea.

We used the TV just once to watch the three-hour-long epic "Mutiny on the Bounty," which comes pre-loaded onto a memory stick in each villa.

It's the 1962 movie Marlon Brando (who helped develop the resort) was filming in the area when he fell in love with Tahiti and bought the entire atoll on which his namesake resort now stands.

The kids each had a twin bed.

Across the villa from the primary bedroom was the kids' sleeping area, which appeared to be a converted lounge space.

We had two twin beds as well as a large TV and a workspace with ample power outlets.

A huge dressing area featured closets and a vanity.

Since we had tons of closet space, I unpacked fully so I could really make myself at home for the week.

The closet also held a beach bag and Brando-branded flip-flops for the whole family (all were ours to use during the visit and to take home after).

The bathroom was huge and airy, with two far-apart sinks and vanities.

The airy and bright room had a modern, crisp look and tons of space.

With curtains opening right into the trees, the room felt one with the environment.

The bathtub was on a deck outside the bathroom, with views of the lagoon and lush trees.

I'm a bath person, and this tub afforded me an epic soak for the ages.

The bathroom also came stocked with a jar of bath salts to create a spa-like experience in the sizable outdoor tub.

Two palm trees on the beach anchored a hammock in our "backyard."

Our villa led onto the nearby beach, where a hammock between two trees was waiting for us.

The swaying hammock was downright intoxicating. I logged some heavenly reading and naptime here while the natural environment (waves crashing, birds singing, and trees rustling) provided the dreamy soundtrack.

Our private pool was deep and spacious.

We spent a ton of time in our 10-square-meter private pool, though the resort also had a larger, common pool we could enjoy.

Our pool was big enough for my whole family to hang out in (and for my kids to coordinate races in).

The backyard also featured an alfresco dining setup under a thatched roof.

Whenever we ordered food to the villa, the room-service staff asked us whether we wanted our spread set up indoors or outside.

Anytime we chose outside, they set up a beautiful table for us beneath our own private, shaded structure.

Looking down the beach from our villa, there was not another soul in sight.

One of the most astounding things about this place is how few people we encountered throughout our stay. It truly has a deserted-island vibe but in a luxurious way.

Looking all the way in either direction from our beachfront space, we never saw another guest.

• When we were new parents with two twin babies, we were overwhelmed.
• We didn't fly until our twins were 2, but if I could do it again, I'd do things differently.
• I'd fly with them earlier and push through the challenges of flying with babies.

My husband and I have always loved traveling the world together. And I was just hitting my stride as a working travel writer when our twins were born in 2014. But when we found ourselves new parents of two newborns at once, we were completely overwhelmed.

Shell-shocked and woefully inexperienced, it took all of our concentration and determination just to go to the local farmer's market as a foursome. For this reason, we hardly did any travel by air while the kids were toddlers under 2. That is, we grounded ourselves for the entire fleeting period in time when we wouldn't have been required to buy the kids their own seats.

When the twins were young, we were just trying to get through each day

We definitely didn't do any air travel when our twins were infants. We thought parenting was so hard back then — and in some ways, it truly was. But looking back on it, those early months, before they could even crawl and were thus naturally more self-contained, now seem like the perfect time to take them on long flights.

Of course, it didn't seem that way at the time. Frankly, just keeping them and ourselves alive was a tall enough order; flying somewhere with our kids — especially somewhere far — seemed like advanced-level parenting that we were nowhere near ready for as bleary-eyed newbies with our hands and brains overfull. Nevermind all the gear that would have been required to make that happen, the thought alone of which was so exhausting.

Back in those days, we frequently took them to a nearby park to watch the planes' thunderous landings at our home airport of LAX to get them excited about air travel. Happy as those memories are (and I think our strategy worked), it wasn't the same as fanning out around the globe.

I wish we'd started flying with them earlier

Flash forward a decade. Now that my kids are 10 and will soon wrap up elementary school, we've got the travel thing down like pros. They're seasoned travelers with fully stamped passports who know their way around a long-haul flight, a customs counter, and a subway map in another language. We are now living the exciting, rewarding, far-flung travel life I dreamed for us as a family, which had seemed so out of reach back then.

I'm also acutely aware of how fast it all goes now that I am the experienced parent looking wistfully at the littles wherever we go. I see those parents' challenges; I lived those toy-flinging, bottle-feeding, and diaper-changing experiences and know them well. But I also wish I had been clear-headed enough back then to just push through.

We could have saved tons of money on kids' plane tickets when they were under 2 and permitted to share our seats. Moreover, we could have absorbed more of the world's adult sightseeing opportunities, with infants strapped to our chests — back in the days before they required their own age-appropriate entertainment (and a souvenir at every stop).

I may be looking at things through rose-colored glasses, but that's OK

Am I looking back on this through the unrealistic lens that can only come from forgetting the true grit and physicality of early parenthood — with years of distance from being in the trenches? Absolutely, yes.

But now that I have more confidence as a mom, it is nevertheless fun — and triggers some pangs of regret — to fantasize about what our travel life could have been like with pre-crawling babies had we felt more nimble then.

People often ask me: Isn't it hard to travel with kids? I sum up my philosophy on it this way: Yes, it is, of course. But for me, it feels harder to live a life deprived of travel. Pushing through the inconveniences, stresses, and costs feels far less onerous to me — and much more rewarding — than accepting that I have to miss out on all of it, kicking the can years down the road into some unknown future that can never be guaranteed.

So if I had it to do again, I'd start our family adventures earlier, seizing every opportunity to experience the world together at every stage.

• I've traveled to Las Vegas dozens of times in the past 25 years including many times solo.
• When I'm alone, the best things to do in Las Vegas include walking the Strip and having a spa day.
• I love having brunch by the Bellagio Fountains and drinks at the Chandelier bar at the Cosmopolitan.

I've been visiting Las Vegas multiple times annually just about every year since I hit the legal gambling and drinking age in the US.

This means I've been making the pilgrimage to one of my favorite cities in the country for over 25 years.

Depending on the trip, you might find me raging with my husband or friends for a birthday bash or a girls' weekend. Or you may find me taking Sin City solo, as I often visit on work-related trips to trawl tradeshow floors or cover major events in town.

Although it might sound odd to visit Las Vegas alone, I think it's a fabulous indulgence.

Here's what I love to do when I'm in town on my own schedule with nothing but my own preferences to prioritize.

I love to get my steps in with long walks on the Strip.

There's no shortage of rideshare vehicles and taxis around this town, but I absolutely love taking long — and often destinationless — walks on the Las Vegas Strip.

It's a great way to get my steps in amid so much eating and drinking at the city's many incredible bars and restaurants.

Plus, I can take in the Strip's famous lights and scenery while doing next-level people watching away from the vacuum of windowless casinos, where time seems not to exist.

I always take in the iconic Bellagio Fountains — ideally while eating brunch.

No matter how many times I visit Las Vegas, the Bellagio's extravagant fountain show never gets old.

To best take it in, I like to make a reservation at one of the lakeside eateries in the Bellagio.

Most recently, I had an incredible brunch that included a caviar-topped bagel and an extravagant milkshake-like espresso martini from Michelin-starred chef Julian Serrano at Lago.

I've also had memorable outdoor dining experiences at other standout restaurants on the property, including Spago and Yellowtail.

A spa day is a perfect balance to the Vegas action.

I never met a spa day I didn't like, but Las Vegas is the perfect place to indulge in one when I'm by myself.

It's an antidote to the cacophony of the slot machines and vibrant nightlife energy and a surefire way to soothe sore muscles after I've been lugging my laptop around a tradeshow floor.

On my last visit, I had a life-changing massage at the Four Seasons Las Vegas spa, after which I cuddled with a cup of tea under a faux-chinchilla blanket in the darkened relaxation lounge. It was divine.

I always try to grab a drink at the prettiest bar on the Strip.

When I have solo downtime, playing video poker is my guilty pleasure.

To make the activity as glam and exciting as it can be — and so I have a great time even when I don't get lucky — I sit at the Chandelier bar at the Cosmopolitan while I play.

The bar is known for its dazzling look and is dripping with over 2 million crystals across three floors. Plus, it has great drinks.

On a recent trip, I indulged in a memorable carbonated cocktail with turmeric, orgeat, and sherry … plus a few other inventive, hand-crafted boozy delights.

For me, shopping at the casino-adjacent malls is a must.

I'm a fan of shopping anywhere in the world, but there is a particular pleasure in strolling the stores in Vegas on my own time.

I find it thrilling to window shop at high-end malls like Crystals (adjacent to the Cosmopolitan) and the Bellagio's collection of designer shops.

There's also plenty of shopping that's more within my budget, from the labyrinthine Forum Shops at Caesars Palace (complete with over-the-top fountains) to the Miracle Mile Shops at Planet Hollywood (easily accessible from some of my favorite casino properties, like Aria and the Cosmopolitan).

These Strip-side malls are lively and as good for people watching as they are for scoring a last-minute outfit to wear out that night. (And yes, the fact that I'm welcome to wander into the shops with my cocktail right off the casino floor encourages me to ease up on the purse strings and indulge!)

• My sister is much more low-key than I am, and for her 50th birthday, I wanted to pamper her.
• I planned a trip for her and two of our mutual friends to Las Vegas, and we had an amazing time.
• We packed so much into just two days, including indulgent meals and time at a spa.

In my family, I'm known as the one who knows how to really have fun and indulge in luxury when I travel. And this is especially true when it comes to birthdays: If I didn't see my name written on a plate in chocolate in some fabulous hotel, did I even have a birthday?

For her part, my sister is far less inclined to frivolities. But, as her 50th birthday drew closer on the calendar, I simply couldn't stand to let it go unacknowledged without the kind of blowout I'd want — indeed, expect! — for myself. So, I took over the planning and did it my way.

We went to Las Vegas and had a jam-packed trip

I gathered our group, including two of our mutual close girlfriends, for a girls' trip to Las Vegas — my favorite city for a party, hands down.

We four ladies all shacked up in a hotel room in the new Versailles Tower at Paris Las Vegas, where we had a high-floor balcony — a Strip rarity — with a knockout view directly over the Bellagio fountain. The famous fountain show, with its musical accompaniment, served as the appropriately festive backdrop while we primped and got ready to go out each evening.

Yes, of course, I brought along a "50 and fabulous" sash and tiara for my sister to wear on the Strip — a very not-her but totally-me demand for public attention for a milestone life moment that triggered tons of cheerful birthday wishes from passersby. (And it paired great with the matching heart-shaped sunglasses another friend brought for all of us to wear.)

First up, we headed to Lisa Vanderpump's new lounge, Pinky's — a gorgeous, gilded venue all about feminine energy and fun, with signature pink cocktails and dishes presented in opulent birdcages or frothing with dry ice.

From there, we hit the Dolby Live Theater with great seats for Mariah Carey's residency concert. It was the '90s nostalgic singalong that was perfectly on-theme for a 50th birthday bash and just what our group needed to get loose and grooving.

The following day, we started with mimosas and Dominick Ansel's famous (and famously rich) cronut pastries over brunch at Marché, setting the tone for a day entirely filled with bubbles until late at night.

Next, it was off to the spa — to me, this is an essential element of any girls' trip. We spent hours lounging in robes at Caesars' Palace's Qua Baths, an ancient Rome-inspired labyrinth of decadent pools and therapeutic spaces. Throughout, there were groups of women of all ages, chatting and laughing for more of a celebratory than a subdued atmosphere, and it was the perfect vibe.

That night, we hit the town again, first for an indulgent dinner at Bobby Flay's seafood restaurant Amalfi. There, we chose our fresh fish right off the ice in a market-style setup.

Afterward, we played blackjack over laughter and drinks in the casino before heading to a new nightspot dedicated entirely to caviar and live rock-and-roll music — Caspian's Rock and Roe — because nothing says "I'm 50 and worth it" like some fancy caviar on ice with a side of champers.

Being celebrated — and celebrating someone else — can be so joyful

In just two days, we packed in so much laughter, pampering, partying, and fun. It was enough to fuel us all through months of routine drudgery that necessarily comes with adulting and parenting.

Overall, the trip was a whopping success and the highlight of the year — for both my sister and me. I like to think I showed my big sister that a little strategic indulgence can really ease the existential dread that invariably comes with a major birthday.

And beyond that, I know I showed her how good it feels not just to wear the birthday tiara and celebrate with epic pampering and partying — but to know there's someone who loves you enough to make it all happen in your honor, even if you don't think you really need all the fuss.

• I try not to be a helicopter parent at home, but there are times when my children need supervision.
• On a recent vacation, however, we felt safe enough to let them have almost total independence.
• We were on a private island, and the independence they had gave them immediate confidence.

These days, many parents favor a hands-on, highly supervised, and tightly scheduled parenting style. However, unlike some of my peers, I'm not much of a helicopter parent. My twins, now 10 years old, have been lucky to grow up in our flat, friendly area of urban Los Angeles, where they enjoy the freedom to pop into neighbors' houses unannounced and unsupervised.

Still, at their age, their freedom is limited by the realities of our big-city environment — and their parents' enforcement of rules meant to protect them from it. So they can't ride their bikes out of sight or walk alone from their school bus stop a few blocks from home; the dangers (vehicular and human) associated with our traffic-packed cross streets are just too risky. And that creates a ceiling for their development and independence.

But the calculus changed for all of us on our recent family vacation when we spent a week at The Brando, a resort built upon a private island in French Polynesia. (Yes, my kids enjoy a posh travel life thanks to my job.) Completely inaccessible to unauthorized visitors — just a speck in the Pacific Ocean 30 miles north of Tahiti — there are no cars on this island, or even on the greater atoll.

We let our kids roam free during our vacation

There are just 35 villas (only a few of which were occupied at the time of our stay), and a staff village, tucked into a paradisical coconut palm jungle reminiscent of Gilligan's Island. That's it. And protected as it is by a lagoon, the waters surrounding the island are completely placid at all times.

For all those reasons, the greatest risk I saw to my kids on the island was sunburn — and my husband and I made sure they were well-slathered with sunscreen to protect against the tropical rays. Beyond that, they were free to explore as they wished — alongside their sibling or, in fact, entirely alone, as they preferred at a given moment.

So with their own keys around their wrists in the form of rubber bracelets, off my kids went. They hopped on their bikes, provided by the resort during our stay, and hit the paved path around the island. As long as they remained on this path, there was no real way to get lost, so they were free to explore among the palm jungles and deserted beaches at will. By the water, they found and named hermit crabs and watched fish swim in the lagoon. On land, they identified plants, swung in hammocks, and got soaked by warm rain.

All this time, they were away from their otherwise omnipresent screens — and also away from their parents and the level of oversight they get at home. The whole vibe was more of a 1970s approach to hands-off parenting, and I watched it pay off quickly.

We saw a change in them

In just a week, without the close supervision they get at home, I saw a change in my kids. They exuded greater independence, curiosity, courage, and confidence. Their problem-solving skills improved in this short time, as did their sense of direction and navigational prowess.

Because they were on their own out there, and they didn't have us feet away at all times to lean on for assistance instinctively, they tended to solve their own small problems — like dusting off a scraped knee after toppling on a bike, and making sure to bring along the stuff they felt they needed (such as swim goggles and water bottles, which I'd normally take responsibility for stashing in my beach bag and divvying out when needed, mom style). It was a refreshing change — for all of us.

I also distinctly noticed a particular joy — a carefree affect I don't see from them as frequently in their highly scheduled and supervised normal lives.

Back home after our trip, we snapped back into our typical patterns — the standard buzzkill associated with post-vacation reentry. Resuming my typical level of parental oversight seemed necessary and appropriate given their still-young age, and amid the real and varied risks of our densely populated county, home to nearly 10 million people and a host of social, political, economic, and climate-related problems. (Soon after, widespread wildfires would decimate the city and close their school for nearly two weeks.)

But I like to think the independence and confidence they gained during their free-range week in paradise will continue to serve them well back in the real world. At any rate, it sure was fun — for all of us — while it lasted.

• After giving birth to twins, I built a wardrobe aimed at trying to hide my waist.
• However, after working with a personal stylist, I realized this approach was sabotaging my look.
• Instead, the stylist encouraged me to accentuate my waistline with tailored tops and belts.

Ten years ago, I carried my twins to full term, and they came out big and healthy.

However, my pregnant belly was enormous, and my overstretched ab muscles couldn't come back together after pregnancy, leaving me with a significant case of diastasis recti (abdominal-muscle separation) and a rounded-out belly.

This took a major toll on my body image, which, in turn, affected the way I dressed myself. Instead of expressing my personal style through my clothes — something I'd always loved to do — I built a wardrobe around simply trying to hide my waist area.

Feeling like it was time for a change, I started working with Chellie Carlson, a stylist based in my Los Angeles neighborhood.

Over the course of two meetings, Carlson helped me shop my closet and found one major mistake I was making that sabotaged my entire look.

Carlson looked through my clothes and identified the mistake I was making

During our meetings, Carlson sorted through my clothes and explained that my approach to hiding my midsection was actually making me look bigger in the area I wanted to deemphasize.

My clothes were exaggerating my proportions rather than streamlining them — which wasn't doing me any favors.

She explained that the more flattering approach would be to accentuate my waistline with tailored tops and belts.

So, under Carlson's guidance, I took all my peplum tops out of the closet and tossed them into the donation pile.

She also encouraged me to take a billowing shirt — like my favorite silky button-down — and tuck it into my pants for a more flattering and polished look.

For my other loose-fitting tops — like graphic T-shirts — she showed me how to use a clear hair elastic to invisibly cinch them in the back, creating a more fitted and flattering silhouette.

The closet overhaul boosted my confidence and inspired me to express my personal style again

After working with the stylist, I felt inspired to buy some new pieces in the spirit of dressing with confidence. However, this time, I was driven by a neutral attitude toward my form instead of a self-loathing one.

Based on Carlson's suggestions, I'm now layering my slimmer-fitting tops with oversize blazers or outer layers, which help elongate my torso and balance the look. I'm also pairing everything with high-waisted and wider-leg pants that help me strike a more proportional — and current — style.

Overall, I couldn't be happier with the results of our meetings. The closet overhaul boosted my confidence and inspired me to express my personal style again.

I still won't be wearing crop tops or clingy dresses — this isn't a story about suddenly finding absolute peace with a changed body — but I've learned to express myself in a way that better complements my body.

• For a recent girls' trip, I created an itinerary for spending a perfect 48 hours in Las Vegas.
• We got a great hotel on the Las Vegas Strip, went to an adults-only pool club, and rented cabanas.
• Other highlights included the Bacchanal Buffet, Liquid Pool Lounge, and Vanderpump a Paris.

I've been planning girls' trips to Las Vegas since I hit the legal gambling age about two decades ago.

These epic getaways have taken many forms, including my own raging bachelorette party 15 years ago.

Recently, though, I planned a girls' trip to celebrate both my birthday and the divorce of one of my best friends (yes, she wore a sash for the occasion).

Our group has been traveling to Sin City for decades, and now that we're in our mid-40s, we have different requirements — specifically, more comfort, better food, and a well-balanced schedule.

On this trip, I'd say I nailed the exact right itinerary for our 48 hours in Las Vegas.

On Friday, we checked into our hotel on the Strip

When we arrived in Vegas on Friday, we checked right into MGM Resorts' ARIA. It's one of my favorite places to stay on the Strip because it's centrally located, chic, and stocked with amenities — including a massive pool complex.

We wasted no time heading downstairs for a dip and spending the rest of the afternoon in the water with drinks.

As the sun started to dip, we headed upstairs to shower and get dressed before walking over to The Cosmopolitan's Boulevard pool for sunset cocktails and live music.

I love a spot that offers a view of the Strip in the evening as the lights start to pop. (Skyfall Lounge at the Delano is another great option with a view.)

Then, it was time for a spectacular meal to cap off our first night in town. We went to the buzzy French-Mediterranean restaurant Cathédrale, which felt perfect for a special occasion with its beautiful dining room and upscale menu.

Afterward, we called it a night to prepare for the busy Saturday ahead.

Our second day of the trip was packed with fun and food

After a solid first night of sleep, we were ready for a busy Saturday lineup.

The main event for the day was hanging out at the Liquid Pool Lounge, an adults-only pool club. We got a cabana with a bottle of vodka and a spread of munchies for the group.

We had a blast drinking and pool dancing the afternoon away until around 5 p.m. Afterward, some of us took a nap to regroup before we put on our party clothes.

Then, we hopped in an Uber to the first stop on our itinerary for the night: the immersive, interactive art installation Fantasy Lab Las Vegas. The walk-through experience was trippy with lots of fun photo opportunities.

When we left, we were ready to chow down at Lisa Vanderpump's cocktail lounge Vanderpump a Paris.

It offered the kind of indulgent shared dishes we were craving, including a birdcage packed with cheese and a truffle-stuffed baguette. By the time we wrapped up there, it was about 11:30 p.m.

Our group then headed to Encore Beach Club, where Shaquille O'Neal spun a DJ set that began around 1:30 a.m. After that, I sleepily headed back to the hotel, though some of the other girls partied until 5 a.m.

We ended the trip with a big brunch and lots of relaxation

The last day's agenda was simple and filled with food — just what the doctor ordered.

We headed for an over-the-top Sunday brunch at Caesars Palace's Bacchanal Buffet, the largest buffet in Vegas with hundreds of different dishes. It was truly epic, and we got enough food to last us hours.

After brunch, we were stuffed but made time for one last highlight: We'd reserved a pool cabana at Caesars' Garden of the Gods Pool Oasis, where we could cool off and enjoy the swim-up poker bar on the main level.

Finally, a few hours before our flight, we tossed coverups on top of our swimsuits, retrieved the bags we'd checked with the bellhop, and headed straight to the airport.

• I've planned girls' trips with friends for years, but it's been harder to coordinate them over time.
• We all have a lot going on, and many of us have kids who can be especially tough to plan around.
• Our adults-only trips aren't going anywhere, but we now plan group trips with our daughters, too.

Since college, I've been fortunate to have a big, close-knit group of girlfriends — and I've prioritized nurturing those friendships.

I especially love strengthening our bonds during getaways, and in my group, I handle planning and coordinating the girls' trips.

Since the '90s, I've spearheaded countless getaways for our group — from raging college spring breaks (New Orleans) to bachelorette parties and divorce parties (both Vegas), to milestone birthdays (my 21st in NYC and 30th in Jamaica), to healing retreats after illness and loss.

These trips have been a great source of joy, laughter, healing, and countless memories — one that sustains us through distance and life's tribulations.

I'm determined to keep up the girls' trip tradition, especially as life looks different for all of us.

There are more factors to consider now that we're adults with full lives

In our teens and early 20s, finding time and space for bonding was easy because many of us lived together and had few distractions.

As life has gone on, those opportunities for connection have become fewer and more difficult to coordinate. We no longer live under one roof, and many of us aren't even in the same city.

In our group, there are big jobs, spouses or partners, ailing and elderly parents, a wide range of disposable incomes, and home projects.

For many of us, there are also kids. This element, in particular, makes it harder for people to commit to dates and make a trip happen: There's homework to do, drop-off and pick-up schedules to coordinate, and sometimes no partner who can help.

It can be hard to prioritize time for yourself as a parent, let alone make time for a trip with friends.

A recent change of plans helped me approach girls' trips in a new way

My last girls' trip to Palm Springs was an impulsive overnight stay at an Airbnb oasis with a jewel box of a pool amid a historic heat wave.

My friend had intended to celebrate her anniversary with her husband and daughter there — but when he got sick, she invited my daughter and I to join for a two-generation girls-only sleepover instead.

While we hung out, our daughters (ages 7 and 10) had fun among themselves. When we all came together, we did pedicures and facials, had cannonball contests, and shared a huge tray of nachos by the pool.

This arrangement was fun and rewarding, plus it eased some of the logistical burdens involved in coordinating childcare. It also helped me realize how nice it could be to incorporate our daughters into some of our trips.

Mom-daughter trips won't replace our old format entirely. Importantly, some friends in our group have no kids (and no interest in spending leisure time with them), and some have only sons.

Still, I'm hoping the two-generation girls' trip flourishes as one extension of a cherished tradition in our expanded circle as life goes on.

Most of all, I'm thrilled to expose the next generation to the soul-satisfying joy of girls' trips, a travel style that I believe nurtures friendships and supports sanity across all stages of life.

• I hated feeling like I had nothing to wear, so I hired a personal stylist to help me shop my closet.
• The stylist showed me how to reinvent some of my existing pieces to make them feel current.
• Although I had fewer pieces in my closet, I felt like I had more options than ever.

As a longtime shopping enthusiast, I've pretty much always had a closet full of clothes.

Now that I've reached middle age, I've amassed some pretty nice things among my own racks. Over the years, I've scored some designer-consignment finds, collected a bunch of high-end samples through my job as a lifestyle journalist, and splurged on some higher-end pieces.

Somehow, though, I came up empty every time I opened my closet to get dressed for any particular occasion — from my kids' sporting activities to lunch meetings and date nights. It always seemed that I was staring down a full closet full of absolutely nothing to wear.

For help, I reached out to Chellie Carlson, a stylist based in my own Los Angeles neighborhood, whose philosophy is all about helping regular people put together a wardrobe that lights them up.

Here's how my styling appointment went.

Carlson started by evaluating each piece of clothing I owned.

Carlson arrived at my house with an assistant and a portable rolling rack. They got to work pulling everything out of my closet by category — tops, pants, dresses — and hanging one group at a time on the rack to evaluate each.

Carlson said it's hard to analyze your own inventory when you're staring at the same hodgepodge you see every day. So, to see your clothing with fresh eyes, you have to bring each piece into the light separately.

She used his method to help me put together a capsule wardrobe using my own things.

Right away, she was able to identify the pieces I should donate.

Right off the bat, she identified one factor keeping me from a successful wardrobe: I had a few viable tops, but too many unbecoming ones muddying my choices.

So, we chucked the peplums and cap sleeves, both unflattering styles, into the donation pile.

She gave me some tips on how to make my clothes look and fit better.

Next, Carlson showed me how to reinvent some of my existing tops to make them feel current and tailored to my body — no professional tailor (or big expense) required.

She showed me methods like cutting off the bottom of a too-long sweater with scissors and cinching the back of a T-shirt using a clear ponytail band to create a custom fit.

I finally parted with my skinny jeans and other dated pieces.

I'm a Xennial, and an affinity for skinny jeans is in my generation's DNA. So, I was holding onto a lot of them.

However, Carlson recommended donating my skinny pants and showed me how the wider-cut options in my existing wardrobe can look sleek and polished. She said that by pairing these pants with more fitted shirts, I'll get that same overall shapely silhouette I'd associated with skinny jeans.

In addition to my pants, it turns out my shoe collection was also standing between me and a chic and current capsule wardrobe. I love espadrilles for all my tropical travels, and I had a closet full of chunky wedges, platforms, and stilettos.

However, these aren't the most effective or modern options. For a more streamlined and on-trend look, she said I should lean into some of my kitten heels and flats and bump some of those stilettos into the giveaway pile.

Carlson helped me create new outfits using my existing clothes.

Carlson helped me see that I had plenty of dresses — so I can hold off on that category whenever I get the shopping bug.

She showed me how to update the look of a cute slip dress I had in my closet by pairing it with an oversize blazer and cowboy boots.

This approach also provided more body coverage, giving me the confidence to reach for the slinkier styles I already owned but didn't often muster the confidence to wear.

With a much emptier closet, my "new" capsule wardrobe took shape.

With far fewer pieces of clothing in my closet, my new wardrobe took shape. Suddenly I felt like I had more options, not less.

At a glance, I could now see everything that fit right and was a viable option amid a less-cluttered closet landscape. I also knew how to pair these remaining pieces together as a cohesive capsule that's right on trend.

It turns out that process of curation and guidance — not more clothes — was actually the piece my closet had been missing all along.

• Me and my family love high-end luxury travel but my sister and her family aren't used to it.
• We went on a big group trip, and I chose to go to a luxury resort that was right up my alley.
• My sister's family seemed bored and out of their comfort zones at times, but we all bonded.

I'm well known in my family for my love of high-end luxury travel.

Although I used to rough it in my earlier years, these days you'll rarely find me staying anywhere that's not at least on par with a Four Seasons.

My sister has the opposite inclinations: Her last trip involved building community centers in rural Mexico with my niece.

Still, we pushed to make a joint family vacation happen this summer. We hoped it'd help deepen the bond between our kids, who are five first cousins between the ages of 9 and 17.

She let me take the reins on the trip, so I gathered our families for a vacation to the ultra-luxurious Four Seasons at Cabo del Sol in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico.

The posh trip was a great bonding experience even though I don't think my sister and her family were fully sold on it.

The luxurious accommodations were great, and we didn't really leave the resort

My branch of the family was thrilled as soon as we arrived at our resort.

We had no problem settling into our massive suite with a private pool overlooking the ocean and a walk-in closet as big as our kitchen at home.

It took my sister's family a lot more time to settle into their similar accommodations — a far cry from when they'd slept under wool blankets on plywood platforms on their last trip to Mexico.

Together, we enjoyed the property's expansive pool — the kind where you never have to fight for a chaise lounger and two varieties of resort-issued sunscreen are available on tap.

The five cousins (and us moms) spent hours in the game room, playing friendly competitions of billiards, ping-pong, and pinball.

Still, we didn't really leave the property or do much exploring. I didn't mind, but I could tell my sister and her family weren't as thrilled.

Since there were multiple restaurants at the resort, it was easiest to eat just about all of our meals there without leaving.

Although the resort had tons of kayaks, boogie boards, and snorkel equipment lined up on the beach, it wasn't feasible to take them out for a spin on the choppy coastline in the area.

The kids were disappointed that the sea felt like a bit of a tease — a hint at the possibility of more adventurous days that weren't.

I didn't win over my sister, but the relaxing trip helped us bond

To me, the slow pace, convenience, and luxury make resort-style environments like these great options for a big family vacation.

But the truth is, I could tell my sister's family was a little bored. Her brood is more used to engaging in cultural deep dives or strenuous physical activities than sitting around being pampered.

Meanwhile, my kids grew up on this style of posh travel and eat it up, devouring it as a restful counterpart to the more vigorous trips we also do as a family.

In the end, I probably didn't win over my sister's branch of the family to my way of traveling like I secretly hoped I would. But the trip was still a great success because it allowed us to bond and connect as a family.

The resort provided a slower backdrop for simply being together. We didn't have to worry about running around to different places while juggling a packed itinerary.

And I suspect my sister's family will remember it this way too — with a deep fondness for the memories it helped create — even if they aren't likely to make a habit of this style of trip.