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Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Where are the fashion police when I need them most?

Have you ever just worn the absolute wrong thing? You know when you've done it because it's pretty fricckin' obvious the moment you arrive all decked out in what you may have thought was your most brilliant fashion choice EVER. What a massive mountain of regret it can be.

Well, as you may (or may not) have guessed, I have a terrible habit and a LONG history of doing just this. As a child I always wanted so badly to dress myself, and having a mother who was having absolutely none of that, I think as an adult I developed this "you (meaning society) don't tell me how to live my life" attitude about clothes. I am ashamed to say this "mom dressing me" thing lasted through high school so by the time I got to college I didn't really know the first thing about developing a style of my own. I remember even my senior year, mom taking out the LL Bean catalogue and telling me to pick out the colors of the boxy, oversized polos (she always ordered me a size or 2 too big) I would get to wear for the next 9 months.  Shopping at the Gap or American Eagle was not much of an option for me unless I wanted to buy my own clothes. Which I did manage to do from time to time, but really had no idea what I was doing. Case in point: the first clothing items I bought with my own money were a long-sleeved tie-dye shirt with a giant heart on the front of it, a purple leather jacket (which got stolen, thank God - I'm pretty sure said thieves were the fashion police), and a pair of bright orange Asics (for style, not because I ran because I didn't); all of which I would wear TOGETHER. That was my favorite outfit for longer than I'd like to admit.

I admire the crap out of people who just put it all out there and can be completely confident in whatever they wear, and I think my rationale behind some of my fashion choices has been, "well, even if I end up looking ridiculous, my sparkling personality will SURELY outweigh the fact that my outfit sucks."  I remember, at the age of 12, I went through confirmation at my church. Let me start by saying that the day before confirmation Sunday, I had spent the whole day at a pool party with no sunscreen. So I show up for the ceremony and ALL of the other little girls are wearing white dresses. But me? I'm wearing a black dress with hot pink and purple flowers all over it, puffy sleeves, AND my skin is a brilliant Carrie-esque blood red sunburn. I FULLY blame my mom for this fashion choice as I know she was humiliated when she realized she didn't get the memo about everyone wearing white, but guess who ended up looking like the resident dumbass (hint - it wasn't her). I'm pretty sure the whole congregation, along with God, were embarrassed for me.

So all of this leads me to my adult life. I can honestly say that at 32, I still have no idea what I'm doing in terms of fashion half the time. And I still make the mistake of showing up in jeans at the absolute wrong time AT LEAST once a month. Wouldn't it be nice if a dress code were sent out for every occasion, from a work meeting to a bachelorette party to a wedding shower? I've gone to showers where everyone was dressed in their Sunday best, and others where folks wore jeans and sneakers, and I showed up in just the opposite thing everyone else was wearing. Why can't there be a general code of conduct for things that states something to the effect of: "Everyone can wear whatever they want whenever they want, so long as it is pleasing to the eye." Why are we as society so bound by dress codes? And why don't I ever seem to get the memos?

If I could have it my way, I wouldn't wear jeans anyway. I'd wear yoga pants, tank tops, hoodies and fuzzy boots everywhere. Suck it, fashion police!

Sunday, January 20, 2013

The Milkman, She-Ra and, of course, goats...

So if you've ever had a conversation with me, you've likely learned that one of my ultimate goals in life is to own a huge home and decorate each room with a different theme. Not only will it make my home the most interesting one to visit; it will also force my creative juices to flow into overdrive (which could very well result in something fantastically bizarre). I've been gathering ideas for the past few years.

1) Master Bedroom: This would be the Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon room (sans swords and fights and, you know, killing). Simplicity. Neutral colors. A yoga space. A bamboo tree. Perhaps a panda in said tree. Or a family of pandas. Could be a little distracting when we're trying to sleep but, well, who do you know who has pandas in their bedroom? And most importantly, and to keep in line with said theme, in this room people can glide/float when they jump.

2) Master Bath: Same thing, just to keep in line with the Crouching Tiger theme. Simplicity - candles, neutrals, maybe a zen garden. Spike would be stationed here, just to maintain some consistency with the panda piece. The bedroom/bathroom themes are going to be the calm spots in a house full of chaos.



3) Kitchen: Definitely 1950's. Black and white checkered floor. Tiffany blue and red EVERYWHERE. I'd even pay someone to deliver milk every day in old-fashioned milkman garb. Because, you know, I can.

source: http://gigabiting.com/the-milkman-cometh

4) Guest Bedroom 1: The Room of Magical Creatures. You guessed it - unicorns, coupled with the musical stylings of Seal. I needn't go into detail on this as I'd like for you to use your imagination.

source: http://musichurricane.com/tag/seal/
5) Guest Bedroom 2: The Moroccan style, Super Sexy Room. No furniture - just pillows everywhere. And drapes, lanterns, dark jewel tones everywhere. Incense would be burning. This is the place to go for business time.

6) Guest Bedroom 3: The ADHD Room. Lava lamps everywhere. A disco ball. One of those laser show projection things. Perhaps a goat. An endless supply of candy. Slinkys. One of those moving water pictures on the wall, with the sound of water and dolphins clicking every few minutes.


7) Guest Bedroom 4: The Child of the 80's Room. I think this will be my most cherished (and yours, too). A full-sized, working version of the Rockafire Explosion (with the curtain to pull when it's time to go to sleep, as I know how creepy Fats the Gorilla can be, and frankly, I don't want him watching my guests sleep). Shelves with ALL of the cool toys we used to play with: Teddy Ruxpin, the California Raisins, Rainbow Bright, Transformers, G.I. Joe, He-Man and She-Ra. The bed would be covered with old school stuffed animals including but not limited to E.T., a Glo Worm and the Care Bears (NOT the new versions). There would be a Hello Kitty corner that smells like cherries and is set up like the Hello Kitty Store from my childhood (Macon Mall - many allowances were spent on pencil cases and stickers here). A record player with multiple records including Madonna, George Michael, Prince, Cyndi Lauper and the soundtrack to Flashdance. The party would start and end in this room.

source: http://cyprustoday.net/news/index.php/its-she-ra-2-0/

8) Outside: There would be a miniature animal farm, of course, with goats, pigs and sheep. And a trampoline.

source:http://mydandelionwine.wordpress.com/2012/09/10/meh-meh-mehniature/


Monday, January 7, 2013

On antiquing, haunted teddy bears and Tiffany blue

As I've gotten older and somewhat more mature, I've found this unbelievably strong urge to antique the shit out of my life. So while you and yours are out shopping at the mall on a day off, I love nothing more than to hit the antique stores. There are quite a few within a five mile radius of mi casa that I enjoy visiting.

It's not so much the urge to buy things. It's really the spirit of adventure that makes me want to antique. There's something just intoxicating about walking through a really cool antique store. Dead peoples' things rock. (That being said, I do need to clarify that I AM aware of haunted objects and know better than to buy anything that's especially creepy looking (like dolls and stuffed bears that coo and cover their eyes*), and if I do take something home I suspect may be haunted, I know what to do - burn it. Or call Sam and Dean. God I'm such a nerd).

So there's this AMAZING antique store in Decatur called Kudzu. If you haven't been and live anywhere within, oh, the entire planet, YOU NEED TO VISIT KUDZU. I honestly think this is my most favorite store in the entire world. AND as if this isn't enough, they recently opened a new store in Sandy Springs, on Roswell Rd. Mind = Blown. A dear friend drunkenly said to me once, "I love you so much I want to throw up." Well, that's how I feel about this store.

Which brings me to the point of this post: robins egg/AKA Tiffany blue. Where has this color been all my life? It is gloriously magnificent and makes me swoon with adoration (and not just because it's associated with my name). I realized just how much I love this color while walking through Kudzu. It seems to adorn so many of the never-ending, beautifully arranged booths. It's such a whimsical color, and I am a great lover of whimsy. But I digress.

So I was walking through Kudzu and found this (coat).





It fit like a glove and was just the perfect color and at a mere $28, was completely worth every penny. It even says "wear in good health" in place of a tag. Ever found that one item that you're pretty certain you were born to wear? Well, this was it for me. And it was solidified when I got complimented by TWO gay men at Lenox Mall while wearing said jacket. WHAT??!!

So in searching for more of this color to light up my life, I ended up creating a Pinterest board for it.

LOVE THIS COLOR SO MUCH!!!!

*We were in another local antique store yesterday and Chris pointed to this creepy looking teddy bear sitting on a shelf. I looked over at it and it started moving and cooing. Chris and I both just about peed in our pants we were so freaked out. Upon closer inspection, when it moved its arms it looked like it was covering its eyes. I tried to get a video of this later but the thing wouldn't move again. We thought about buying it for a friend's little kid but our damn heart strings got in the way so we did not move forward with the purchase. How much you want to bet if I go back to the store, not only will the bear not be there anymore, but the employees will know nothing about a cooing teddy bear having ever been in the store?