Halloween Scene Scream

This year, Halloween looks a little bit different.  For one thing, there's no big bowl of candy (sorry, kiddies), just a few token treats for the husband and me.  They're Reese's cups in the shape of, yes, bats.  Which is as fitting as it gets, I guess, when it comes to pandemic eats. 

Another thing that's different is that the husband and I are showing off our costumes on House Party instead of at my parents' Halloween party.  This morning, I scarfed down an extra large dry (thanks to that no-show Walmart grocery delivery order) bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch to empty box number 2.  (It was a tough job, but someone had to do it.)  It was the husband who had the idea to turn the boxes into masks.  He's been harboring empty box number 1 in the pantry for weeks.

Something that hasn't changed this year is our favorite festive amphibian.  Corona can't stop Kermit.  Even if he is stuck in a spider web instead of wedged in a wine glass.  The husband and I think that it's important to mix things up.  When crisis strikes, it's the children who suffer.  

And that, as the mummy said, is a wrap!  Compared to greeting trick-or-treaters and crashing a monster mash bash, it's a subpar way to celebrate spooky.  But all in all not so bad when the creepiest thing going's a cough.  So, sit back, eat more than your fair share of candy, and enjoy the silver lining of not having woken up to a tp'd yard this year.

Happy Halloween!  

Leopard Love: Getting Frank With Fan Favorite Lisa

 

Skirt: XOXO, Macy's

Top: Grayson Threads, Kohl's

Bag: B&B

Skirt: Wild Fable, Target

Bag: Sleepyville Critters, Zulily

Top: Target

Big Pink Pompom Bow Barrette

Bag: Zulily

Desert Necklaces

Boots: Betsey Johnson, Macy's

There's something playful about colorful leopard.  Like somebody impishly swiped a highlighter across the earth-toned Serengeti.  And that somebody is Lisa Frank.  (If the title of this post implied that I'd be interviewing the icon, then 1) please accept my sincerest apologies, and 2) you should know better than that.  Still, Lisa Frank would most certainly be one of those three people, dead or alive, that I'd invite to dinner.  Right between Madame Curie and the guy who invented Cheetos.  (Just kidding.  Madame Curie would be too depressing.)  Of all the artists who've made their multi-hued mark on the animal kingdom, I think Lisa deserves the most credit.  Perhaps her most creative contribution of all is the rainbow leopard.  Well, the rainbow everything.  But one not-so-still-life at a time.  

No doubt about it, Lisa's the first lady of cute.  She was destined to make drab things fanciful, what with hailing from the desert.  She also has a heartwarming knack for turning ferocious beasts into cuddly critters.  (And no, I haven't forgotten about Teddy Ruxspin, or, for that matter, Furbies.  But are they wrapped in ROYGBIV?  I think not.  Also, there's no need for toys that come with their own commentary.  I'm talking to you, Cricket.)  

That said, these outfits are my humble homage to Ms. Frank's sassy safari.  I even managed to get a few cacti in there!  Not to mention Hello Kitty.  Which has nothing to do with Lisa Frank but remains firmly saved with her and her merch in my late-'80s-early-'90s childhood memory bank.  

A bank, of course, that's decked out with little pink hearts and fluorescent rainbows.  

P.S. Lisa Frank, if you're out there, I'd like to pitch you an idea:

Neon green, lightning bolt-ringed Marie Curie hugging a kitten clutching a lollipop growing an ear.

Can you say sticker book centerfold? 

No Shirt, No Shoes, No Nervous

Ah, the cinema. So glamorous and exciting and sweet and not just because it sounds like cinnamon. Is there anything quite like settling into a seat with a box of Junior Mints and a costs-only-a-quarter-more tub of Dr. Pepper while watching previews? Yes, I love going to the movies. And pre-pandemic, I went all the time. But now that my options are limited to whatever I can get on TV, I'm finding . . . that they're not so limited after all. There are a lot more movies out there than I ever imagined, some I've never even heard of. Just last weekend, I was scrolling through the Amazon Prime offerings when one such movie, Barefoot, popped up. I saw that Scott Speedman was in it and thought, oh, it's Ben from Felicity! Let's watch that!

Here's the rundown: Jay (Speedman) is a hospital janitor on parole; Daisy (Evan Rachel Wood) is in the psych ward and may or may not have murdered her mother.  Jay's a world-weary, rich kid-turned-gambler; Daisy's a shut-in who's never even eaten marshmallows.  They meet when Jay saves Daisy from a would-be molester.  Struck by his gesture, Daisy follows Jay out of the hospital and begs him to take her with him.  Jay protests but eventually relents, even though he's going to his parents' mansion for his brother's wedding.  Jay is estranged from his parents.  But he soon realizes that passing Daisy off as his new girlfriend may help get him back in their good graces so that they'll fund his new business venture.  Gentle awkwardness ensues as Daisy unsuccessfully navigates civilized society while garbed in bona fide stripper dresses (for some reason, Jay's favorite club seemed like a more sensible place to procure a wardrobe for Daisy than Target).  Nevertheless, Daisy is charming, a kind of fresh-limbed, Little Mermaid fish out of water who means well even as she stumbles.  Jay's mom takes a liking to her, even going so far as to lend her a dress.  But the wedding's only the beginning.  Jay steals his dad's brand-new, state-of-the-art camper, officially making him and Daisy on the run.  Still channeling Ariel, Daisy expresses wonder at everything she sees, proclaiming her day with Jay at a small town carnival to be the best she's ever had.  On the surface, the two seem so different.  But underneath, they're both outcasts trying to find their way in.  And that's how they get close and get through to each other.

One of Daisy's quirks is that she likes to be barefoot.  She never says why, but I think it's safe to assume that after so many years of confinement, she relishes the idea -- and symbolism -- of freeing her feet.  Daisy's backstory is especially interesting in this time of quarantine, when plenty of people are hunkering down in their houses.  Many of them probably feel trapped too.  Not me, of course -- you know I love living la vida solo.  But that's the thing about this crazy virus.  It makes you want to be kinder to everyone, no matter their point of view.  Because we're all human and going through stuff and deserve to have someone understand.

That said, today's crafty tie-in has nothing to do with sheltering in place or feet (I considered making a felt foot barrette but decided to spare you).  Although it is something that a slightly muddled, barefoot hippie might wear.  Yes, it's the Mixed-up Medallion Necklace, an eclectic accessory for the boho runaway in all of us.

Mixed-up Medallion Necklace

In keeping with the foot theme, here's a quote about feet from another movie that reminds us to be better.  Not that the quote is about being better -- it's not; if anything, it's about being mean.  But we're going for feet here.  You get it.

"The worst thing we've done is make Regina George's face smell like a foot."

Oh, Mean Girls.  You never let me down.

A Case of Space: Reach for the Mars Bar

Alien Admirer Barrette Brooch

Everyone wonders if there's something else out there.  Like little green men on a moon made of cheese or slimy mammoths that can crush us like bugs.  But Roswell-based, seventeen-year-old Mallory Sullivan is certain that Earth isn't the only game in the solar system.  A fan of outer space and all things alien, she's a regular on a message board called We Are Not Alone, or WANA.  On it, she connects -- and argues -- with a brilliant but snarky stranger.  

"Um, okay, Tote Trove Lady," you may be thinking.  "But who the heck's Mallory, and why should I put down my Pringles to care?" 

I'll answer that question by asking another.  Remember Kerry Winfrey, author of rom com-rific novels Waiting for Tom Hanks and Not Like the Movies?  Well, her first book was a YA novel called Love and Other Alien Experiences.  It's light-hearted and colorful and bubbly.  And it's about a girl named Mallory who never, ever leaves the house.  Mallory's always been anxious.  But her agoraphobia didn't start until her dad left her, her mom, and her younger brother Linc.  Now she gets panic attacks every time she opens her front door and goes to school via Zoom.  Other than her mom and Linc, her best friend Jenni is the only person she talks to IRL.  Her mom and therapist are frustrated with her, and her mom has installed a tracker on her computer to limit her time online.  It isn't until Mallory is -- surprise! -- nominated for homecoming queen that she's forced to interact with others.  This means partnering up with school heartthrob and quarterback Brad on a physics project.  It also means spending time with Brad's stepbrother, the mysterious and arrogant Jake.  Brad is a loveable dunce; Jake is an antisocial genius.  But both are important in encouraging Mallory to begin to confront her phobia.  

Now, that's all pretty out there.  And I'm not just talking about the homecoming queen part (although Mallory does get to try on some funky thrift store dresses).  The really weird thing is that in the last book I read, Elin Hilderbrand's 28 Summers, the heroine was also named Mallory, the love interest was also named Jake (sorry not sorry; surely, you saw that one coming), and there was another Linc.  Only this time it was spelled Link and he was Mallory's son instead of her brother.  I don't know about you, but I can already hear The Twilight Zone music playing.  28 Summers, by the way, is a Nicholas Sparks-level tearjerker.  No one in it has a debilitating psychological disorder; it's a drama about star-crossed love vs. humdrum marriage.  But it's super sad and made me cry.  Love and Other Alien Experiences, on the other hand, seems like it would be as serious as an abduction but instead has a top-forty-soundtrack-neon-palette vibe.  I mean, the popular guy isn't even a jerk!  Which just goes to show that it's the tone and not the subject matter that makes or breaks a novel's gravity -- and a protagonist's spirit.  On the surface, I prefer 28 Summers.  Because I'm a grown-up.  And because it includes yet another reference to Cherries in the Snow as being someone's ideal red lipstick (even if that someone is the villain).  Yet romance and Revlon aside, it's Love and Other Alien Experiences that I'm compelled to quote here today.  This is what Mallory tells us:

"That's what I like about the Internet -- I'm allowed to be silent, to think, to just sit.  I don't have to worry about whether I have something in my teeth or if my bangs look greasy.  My awkward conversation skills don't even matter, and I can be the best version of myself on-screen." (99)

A girl who's afraid to go outside but obsessed with the wide open spaces of, well, outer space, is a closed and open book all at once.  The idea of running into the mean girls at school unnerves her, but aliens?  No big deal.  The great unknown of the galaxy is more comforting than the certain uncertainty of high school and a runaway dad.  Unlike the Mallory in 28 Summers, I've never had a forbidden romance.  But like the Mallory in Love and Other Alien Experiences, I know what it's like to be more comfortable in the virtual world than the real one.  To lean in to the luxury of being able to process and curate my thoughts instead of delivering a clever comeback with zero prep time.  Also, to fart whenever I want to.     

Which is, of course, one of the many reasons that I love crafting (the solitude, that is, not the farting).  Crafting, like reading and writing, is a party for one that runs on my own timetable.  I made this Alien Admirer Barrette Brooch before I read Love and Other Alien Experiences.  But the book had been hiding, Jedi-style, in the recesses of my Amazon shopping list.  So maybe it did influence the idea for this disembodied green head floating amid the flowers.    

Tank: Say What?, JCPenney

The husband says that the alien and steer skull eyes in my felt work are the same.  Which is kind of funny because both aliens and steer skulls can be found in the desert -- the desert of Roswell.  Here's one of my much-posted desert scapes for comparison: 

Fabulous Felt Desert Barrette

This felt phenomenon is my kind of eerie; no Fire in the Sky for me!  But I like that Mallory likes aliens.  Because they, and the other people who like them, make her feel like she's less alone.  I'm glad that one of them turned out to be her person.  

And that she didn't wear that bloodstained dress to the prom.

Roses are Red, Violets are Blue, Stilettos are Sweet, but Gerry is Too

Dress: Arizona Jeans, JCPenney

If I Dreamed a Desert Barrette Brooch

Dress: ELLE, Kohl's

Yummy Gummy Bears Necklace

Shoes: Mix No. 6, DSW

Sweater: Nine West, Kohl's

Bag: Nahui Ollin

? Parrot Necklace

Blouse: Macy's

Fabulous Felt Yellow Folk Flowers Barrette

Bag: Marshalls; Shoes: Not Rated, Journeys

Not too long ago, I was crafting and rewatching P.S. I Love you when I caught this quote:

"Just create something . . . new, and there it is, and it's you, out in the world, outside of you, and you can look at it, or hear it, or read it, or feel it . . . and you know a little more about . . . you.  A little more than anyone else does.  Does that make any sense at all?"

This is what Holly (Hilary Swank) says when she meets Gerry (Gerard Butler) and explains her need to be creative.  And yes, it makes total sense!  There's something about seeing the thing that was once in your head become real -- and knowing that others can see it too -- that makes you feel human.  Then again, Holly doesn't put her imagination where her instep is and design shoes until Gerry kicks the bucket.  But you know what they say.  The course to true love never runs smooth.

It should go without saying that the part about creativity speaks to me.  So I'm showing you me wearing colorful stuff, some of which I made, like I do.  And -- because I like you so much -- I'm throwing in some knickknacks, too.  Like the clothes, they make me happy to count myself among the kind of people who surround themselves with whimsy.

Bottles: A.C. Moore

Kaleidoscope: Kohl's

Gerry/Gerard, if you're out there, then forget what I said earlier.  Dead or alive, you're always the dream, even when up against footwear.  Because when you met Holly, you thought, "I never saw so many colors on the same girl" and then promptly set out to pursue her.  And that, dude, deserves devotion.  

Even though, years later, you yelled at her for buying too much Marc Jacobs on eBay.

Treat Feat

Flip flops: Katy Perry Collections; Mules: Mix No. 6, DSW

You know how these days every day is its own mini holiday?  Like National Ice Cream Day or Free National Parks Day or Hug a Sloth Day?  (I made that last one up.  Although there is an International Sloth Day; its motto is "slow down to celebrate.")  Well, today is Treat Yourself Day.  And I only know that because my sister, who goes over these celebrations with her three-year-old daily, told me.  She also texted me that it's (Amazon) Prime Day.  To which I replied, "I know, how apropos!"  And we both LOL'd because, Tom Haverford (Aziz Ansari) and Donna Meagle (Retta), hashtag Treat Yo' Self, Parks and Recreation.   

Gift from my sister last Christmas.

Another thing that's apropos today is that my $3.50 flip flops arrived from, not Amazon, but Katy Perry Collections.  They were so cheap because I used my loyalty points from my previous plunders to buy them.  I was doubly excited because just last week I got a free pair of Mix No. 6 mules from DSW, an acquisition made possible by stacked rewards certificates.  And so I thought, what better time than Treat Yourself Day to post them?!  So here they are, my comfy fab finds, a treat for the eyes and arches.    

If only I could say the same about Jerry (Jim O'Heir) -- er, Larry -- on Parks and Recreation.

Under the Archway . . .

. . . awaits a world of wonder and whimsy.  Under the archway of my porch, that is, and also under the Archway cookies.  Not too long ago, I was retrieving a package from my front step when I noticed the half moon of bright blue sky under the arched overhang and thought, now, that would make a nice picture.  And then I thought of Archway cookies because when I was little, my grandmother used to give them to my sister and me.  They were usually the ones with the jelly in the middle, and whenever I see them, I think of her.  These days, my favorite flavor is the frosty lemon; the husband likes the Dutch cocoa.  

I love cookies so much (but then, who doesn't?) that once in a blue moon, I'm tempted to bake them.  But whenever that feeling strikes, I make them out of felt instead (after, of course, buying some).  Like in this Snack Attack Barrette Brooch and old (but not stale!) Chocolate Chip Cookie Brooch.  I'm always much happier with the results.  Plus, there's no danger of burning the house down.

Top: Bongo, Sears

Snack Attack Barrette Brooch

Chocolate Chip Cookie Brooch

And that's how the cookie crumbles.  Also, how we got from cookies to childhood to baking to felt and back to cookies again, bringing us to the end of this If You Give a Mouse a Cookie style post.  Which means that there's only one cliché left to say:

Got milk?  

Tent Vent: Autumn Pyrotechnic Eccentric

Skirt: Modcloth

Shirt: Xhilaration, Target; Avian Adventure Necklace: The Tote Trove

Bag: Nine West, ROSS Dress for Less

Skirt: TJ Maxx; Flora's Flowers Necklace: The Tote Trove

Boots: Chase & Chloe, Zulily

Shorts: Merona, Target

Top: Flying Tomato, Marshalls

Top: Self Esteem, Zulily

Shoes: Penny Loves Kenny, Zulily

Skirt: Dancing Days by Banned, Modcloth

Belt: Apt. 9, Kohl's

Skirt: Celebrity Pink, Marshalls

Bag: Liz Claiborne, JCPenney; Scrunchies: Gifted; Maroon bangle: Iris Apfel for INC, Macy's; Other bangles: B Fabulous; Bright Hip to be Square Necklace: The Tote Trove

If a maxi skirt is a man on stilts, then a micro mini is a midget.  So for this circus of autumn ensembles, I handpicked a hodgepodge of hemlines, although none quite as extreme as those personified by our ringmaster mascots.  I've worn everything -- tops, shoes, and bags -- to the big top before (except the blouse in the second to last outfit), but never any of it in the same costume.  Which just goes to show (me, as I'm the one who needed convincing) that fall isn't just about death and decay.  It can also be about new beginnings.  Not only that, but the season's jewel-tone shades are a great backdrop for, well, jewels, and other bright extras. 

If you're asking yourself, "Have I heard this before?", don't worry; you're not going nuts.  This is just that yearly post where I get with the program and decide to like fall.  And one of many where I mention the circus.

So, all hail the harvest.  And the circus.  Because both are a cozy, crazy cross between homespun and hair-raising (I'm talking to you, Halloween), the perfect time to, ahem, fall for the sweet scent of woodfire smoke and the spine-tinglingly electric spectacle of fire eaters.  It kind of makes me wish I had a tent dress.  Preferably a red-and-white striped one like a bloated candy cane or super jumbo  deluxe popcorn tub.  What I've got is mustard-smeared separates, but I'm making them work for me.  

Which is as it should be.  Because as they say in the The Greatest Showman and other out-there acts, this is me.

P.S. I use the word "circus" three times in this post.  Coincidence?  The bearded lady thinks not.