Animal Print Stint: A Very Merry Unbirthday to Me

Tights: Xhilaration, Target

As you know, I hit the big 4-Oh in the beginning of the month.  But the family party (okay, get-together, as there were a pod-approved nine of us) took place last weekend -- which gave me an excuse to celebrate all over again.  And if Alice and animal print don't say happy birthday month -- or merry unbirthday, to quote that wonderfully wacky Alice in Wonderland ditty -- then I don't know what does.

Socks, ? (they were a Christmas gift :) 

Skirt: Bubblegum, Macy's

Boots: Jessica Simpson Collection, Amazon

Sweater: Bar III, Macy's

Bag: Betsey Johnson, Macy's

My parents pulled out all the stops, decking their house with pink decorations.  It was the best bash I could've hoped for, with all of my favorite people.  At one point we were covered in streamers, but I decided not to post any pictures of that.  I respect the privacy of others, if not my own.  

Anyway, it's a good thing we partied down last weekend, because this is what it's like out today:

There's fifteen inches of the white stuff here at the Jersey shore.  As always, I took it in from inside my window.  And then promptly hit the couch to watch TV, this time the pilot of ABC's new vineyard-set drama, Promised Land.  It's good; I raise a glass to it.

Even if what's in my glass is cinnamon apple tea.

Of Clowns and Cacti

Another Upside Down Clown Necklace

Top: Crown of Hearts, Alloy

So Many Succulents Necklace

Top: Collectif X, Modcloth

So, Guthrie and Elmer.  I introduced these two a while back, and they're still out there, roaming the desert.  Only now they've picked up a protégé.  His name is Ollie, and his claim to fame is that he can stand on his head.  Why don't we make his acquaintance? 

Ollie didn't know what he'd gotten himself into.  When Guthrie and Elmer picked him up hitchhiking on the outskirts of Twin Terrors, he thought they were just another couple of oldsters.  Sure, they were crotchety as all get out and looked like they'd seen more than their share of bad road.  But it wasn't until they started talking about themselves in the third person that he started to worry.  It was as if they had split personalities.  One half was the geezers who hated clowns; the other half was the clowns.  Ollie almost asked them about it.  But it wasn't the kind of thing he could bring up after trading war stories about Route 66 or commenting on a cactus-shaped cloud.  Especially not after they'd been kind enough to share their chili, even if it was vegetarian and smelled like a compost pile.  No, weird as they were, he was in no position to make waves with these gents.  So when Guthrie asked if he'd join their act at the Sidewinder Saloon, he burped up some chili and said, "Sure."  Now he was onstage -- or on the overturned washtub that passed for a stage -- doing a headstand as the Friday night crowd jeered and catcalled.  He didn't know how women stood it, having their body parts reduced to overripe fruit, their every movement turned into something suggestive.  But he told himself to ignore the drunks and concentrate on what he was doing.  Every time he stood on his head, he did it for a few seconds longer than he had the time before.  It made him feel like he had something to work toward and that he was getting somewhere.  Plus, being ridiculed up there alongside Guthrie and Elmer bonded them more closely and quickly than any campfire or cold one ever could.  Even when, hours later as they made their way home in the stark, inky night, Guthrie and Elmer unleashed a fresh verbal assault on their alter egos.  Ollie considered telling them about his own demons.  His parents had thrown him out when he was ten because they had too many mouths to feed.  But also because they were sick of explaining why their son was such a dreamer and had a head where his feet should be.  Then Guthrie started playing his banjo, disrupting Ollie's thoughts.  When Guthrie broke the banjo over Elmer's head, Ollie knew it would be a long night.         

And that's Ollie!  You can see his likeness taking center stage in the form of a plastic noisemaker in my Another Upside Down Clown Necklace:

The two things that you need to know about this necklace are: 1) The noisemaker was the prize inside a New Year's Eve cracker, and 2) it's called "another" because there was an Upside Down Clown Necklace that came before it.

Noisy is as noisy does.  But nothing's as noisy as Guthrie's banjo.     

The Bad Old Cays: Another Maine Murder

The puffins on this book cover are adorable, the bright blue backdrop serene.  Even the girl clinging to the cliff edge for dear life has a comfortingly cartoonish quality.  But Leslie Meier's Invitation Only Murder, the 2019 installment in her popular Lucy Stone series, is more creepy than cozy.  

Reporter-slash-sleuth Lucy is at it again.  But this time she's ventured from the relative safety of Tinker's Cove to an island frozen in the nineteenth century.  Peculiar patriarch and billionaire Scott Newman has plunged his family, which includes his second wife, two sets of twins, and a skeleton crew of salt-of-the-earth staff, into the ultimate eco-warrior experiment: modern life minus modern conveniences.  No cell phones, TVs, or electricity.  Or, as they said on Gilligan's Island, not a single luxury (although even the Professor had a coconut radio).  Just miles and miles of pristine Maine countryside -- where no one can hear you scream.  

And you thought your family was crazy.

Scott claims it's all in the name of protecting Mother Earth, but his controlling ways suggest that something far more sinister is afoot.  And then someone turns up dead, with two more lost in the fog-shrouded forest.  I couldn't help but think that this setup of a strange, wealthy family marooned in the boonies had an air of Agatha Christie.  And when I got to the part where Lucy tries to talk herself off the ledge, my hunch was confirmed:

"Get a grip, she told herself, determined to resist the paranoia that seemed to be infecting the house.  This isn't an Agatha Christie story; people aren't going to disappear one by one, slain by a killer intent on avenging a past wrong." (167-168)

But rattled or not, Lucy isn't one to throw in the towel.  So, like Hercule Poirot, she puts her little gray cells to the test.  She's not a journalist for nothing; her ease with people and observational skills prove invaluable as she works to unmask the killer.  

Invitation Only Murder wasn't what I expected.  It's grimmer than the average Lucy Stone caper, going so far as to include a description of Scott's faithful servant laying out a dead body.  Nevertheless, I found it intriguing, spellbound by the eerie vibe and fog to find out if the good guys -- whoever they were -- would survive.

And also, at the very least, it made me appreciate Wi-Fi. 

Two Plaids, Four Fads, and a Rag Bag Revisited

Coat: So, Kohl's

I'm kicking off this post with a very cheesy -- but very necessary! -- line: so many plaids, so little time.  Because I was so excited about my new pair of plaid minis that I decided to build not one but two looks around each.  

First up is this purple skirt in an outfit we'll call "funky fur."  The skirt is preppy, but the color is kooky, and that's the part I decided to run with.  More mushrooms and My Little Ponies, please!

Yellow Garden Necklace

Top: Delia's, Dolls Kill

Barrettes: Dolls Kill

Bag: Amazon

Next is the same skirt styled in a more scholarly yet fairy kei way.  Looks like "pastel prep" to me!    

Sweater: So, Kohl's

Ring: (old school) Delia's; Barrettes: Dolls Kill; Mint bangle: Decree, JCPenney; Yellow bangle: B Fabulous

Skirt: Almost Famous, Kohl's

Teddy Confetti Necklace

Sweater: Pink Republic, Macy's

And that brings us to my second skirt, this colorful flared affair from Delia's for Dolls Kill.

But first, a little tangent. 

A year or so ago, I bagged up some clothes to donate, shoved them in a closet, and promptly forgot about them.  I wasn't about to haul them off to Goodwill with COVID still surging.  But I recently went into that closet to get something else, saw the bag there, and thought, I wonder . . . 

I don't have to tell you that I was soon surrounded by a colorful sea of my so-called castoffs.  Rifling through those garments -- even the hideous ones -- gave me a lot of joy.  There were even a few pieces that were still kind of nice.  This is how hoarders get started, I thought, examining an almost brand-new pair of chocolate flats I'd once deemed too small.  I set them aside; I could make them work with pantyhose.  I also rescued a cutout black sweater that I could probably get away with over a tee shirt, a floral red button-down perfect for Zoom meetings, and, finally, the maroon, blue, and mustard sweater I'm sporting in this ensemble.  At the time, I thought the colors were too drab or collegiate.  But after fishing it out of the bag, I remembered how much I liked the fit and considered reinventing it with a bright bottom.  Enter this sunshiney plaid number!  When the husband snapped my pic in it, he said I looked like I was ready to head to Riverdale, which I loved.  Even though to me the vibe was more Mean Girls.  

Green bracelet: Parade of Shoes; Blue bracelet: Cloud Nine, Ocean City; Ring: Making Waves, Ocean City

Skirt: Delia's, Dolls Kill

Suzy Snapshot Necklace

Tights: Isadora, Zulily

Finally, I curated the same skirt in a different way, with an oversized pastel sweater and eclectic accessories.  The leopard pumps were another near-discard; they're a little big, which is why I'm rocking socks.  And then there are my crooked cobalt tights.  What is it about vertical-striped stockings, anyway?!  Sometimes the stars align and everything falls where it's supposed to.  But more often than not, no amount of twisting and untwisting can correct a configuration that's woefully catawampus, and I feel as uncoordinated as a kid who can't tie her shoes.  That's why I'm dubbing this outfit "unkempt kitsch."  It's a not-so-subtle reminder that things don't have to be perfect to be pretty.

Which is as good a mantra as any for this recovering perfectionist.

Bag: Betsey Johnson, Macy's

Flower barrette: Etsy; Bow barrette: Carole, JCPenney

Shoes: Journeys, Kohl's

Spider necklace: SHEIN; Love bangle: Boscov's; Choker: Mixit, JCPenney; Small bracelet: Cloud Nine, Ocean City; Large bracelet: Mixit, JCPenney; Barrettes: SHEIN

Sass by the Glass: Grape Expectations

My latest read, The Summer Job, was yet another recommendation from my favorite librarian, Ellie.  This debut novel by Lizzie Dent is the story of Birdy, a loser Londoner who decides to impersonate her bestie as a world-class sommelier for the summer.  Despite being unable to tell a citrus note from a Shasta, Birdy plans to wield her wine goblets at Loch Dorn, a sleepy hotel-slash-restaurant tucked into the Scottish countryside.  It'll be an adventure -- and best of all for suddenly homeless Birdy, rent free.  But things go, ahem, sideways once she realizes that the so-called hole-in-the-wall B&B is actually a posh spot helmed by a Michelin-starred chef.  High profile and demanding, her role as resident grape guru instantly gives her something to worry -- and, yes, wine -- about.  One cringeworthy incident after another tempts her to cork the Chablis and hightail it back to London.  But the quiet charms of a certain chef (not the Michelin man; he's a wanker) paired with her newfound need to succeed keep her as rooted as the cuckooflower for which she and the kitchen staff forage.  Soon, secrets at Loch Dorn and from the home front have Birdy working overtime on more than the wine list, making The Summer Job a classic tale of a screw-up (or, in this case, a screw-top wine aficionado) stepping up to save the day.

This book was the perfect palate cleanser after Nicholas Sparks's beautiful but emotionally draining The Wish.  It made me think of silly stuff like wine o' clock somewhere merch, UB40's "Red Wine," and, of course, Step Brothers's Catalina Wine Mixer, even though I don't drink wine -- or anything fermented.  It's one of those books that's fun to read but would be a trial to live.  At least for me.  Pretending to be a wine expert, or really, any hospitality professional, is at the top of my list of nightmare jobs, right under Uber driver and phlebotomist.  The stress!  The lies!  The hangovers!  It's no wonder poor Birdy didn't go into cardiac arrest and fall headfirst into a glass of Merlot -- even if she did just that metaphorically, as illustrated on the cover.  Indeed, the high-jinks alone are enough to make this novel into a hilarious movie.  I see Phoebe Waller-Bridge as Birdy, partly because Dent sort of looks like her but mostly because of her brand of over-the-top, elegant irreverence.  (Apparently, this was no accident; in the author discussion at the back of the book, Dent shares that Birdy was partially inspired by Fleabag's title character.  Even if Dent did go on to say that she'd choose Gillian Jacobs to play Birdy in a screen adaptation.  No disrespect to you, Gillian -- I loved you in Community -- but no one other than Phoebe Fleabag herself should rakishly don Birdy's apron.)  As for the fetching foodie, Kit Harrington would do very nicely.  His sensitive intensity is just what this recipe requires, even if I'm drawing more upon his performance in Modern Love than Game of Thrones.

But enough fantasy director league chatter.  The point is that The Summer Job serves up a grape escape.  

No doubt about it; Dent's debut goes down easy.   

Colorblock Brain Teaser Sneezer

Top: Bar III, Macy's

Bag: Harajuku Lovers, ROSS; Barrette: INC, Macy's; Scrunchies: Lady Arya, Zulily

Skirt: Amazon

80s Explosion Necklace

Jacket: Marshalls

Bag: Betsey Johnson, Dolls Kill

Top: Almost Famous, Boscov's

Bracelets: Jessica Simpson Collection, Amazon

Sweater: Crave Fame, Macy's

Rockin' Locks Necklace

Pink pumps: Jessica Simpson, DSW; Rainbow pumps: Anne Michelle, JCPenney

Scrunchies: Lady Arya, Zulily; Bag: Francesca's; Ring: Making Waves, Ocean City; Pink bangle: Don't Ask, Zulily; Striped bangle: Mixit, JCPenney

Whenever I hear the word "colorblock," I think of a Rubik's Cube.  Which is a puzzle I could never solve.  Thankfully, when it comes to fashion, the rules of color coordination are more forgiving.  That's why I love a good colorblock sweater (also, a good striped top, but this isn't about you, stripey).  Dramatic and bold, these pullovers put it all out there, giving the rest of your outfit a party palette to play with.  

But back to the beginning and that cocky cube.  Being bested by it didn't stop me from buying it in tissue box cover form:

Tissue box cover: Amazon

It holds court in my craft room offering, not tissues, but the artistic equivalent of trash talk inspiration.

Hit me with your best snot, Sir Rubik.        

A Spark in the Dark

Some call him cheesy.  Or maudlin.  Or even a misogynist (that was me).  But even so, Nicholas Sparks remains one of our most gifted writers.  His novels of love and loss are universal, embroidered with the kind of idiosyncratic details that make you feel like you're there.  And his latest, The Wish, takes us on the most off-the-beaten-path journey yet.  A frame story told through flashbacks and letters, The Wish jumps seamlessly between the mid '90s and the present to tell a tale that's old-fashioned yet timeless.

When sixteen-year-old Maggie Dawes ends up pregnant, her parents ship her from Seattle to the Outer Banks to live with her aunt, an ex-nun lesbian.  Scared and sullen, Maggie finds Ocracoke rundown and boring.  But then she gets to know her aunt -- and meets her tutor-to-be, Bryce Trickett.  It's her relationships with both -- and seeing the world through Bryce's camera lens -- that transforms Ocracoke into a haven.

Inspired by Bryce's passion for photography, Maggie begins taking her own pictures.  And it turns out to be a therapeutic outlet, helping her through her pregnancy the way that painting helped the teens in her aunt's convent:

"I imagined pregnant girls in a bright, airy room in the convent with wildflowers blooming outside.  I thought about how they felt as they lifted a brush, adding color and wonder to a blank canvas and feeling -- if only for a brief moment -- that they were like other girls their age, unburdened by past mistakes.  And I knew that they felt the same way I did when I stared through the lens, that finding and creating beauty could illuminate even the darkest periods." (229)

Photography evolves into Maggie's North Star, guiding her into the future.  At the same time, the events that unfold for her and Bryce elevate coming-of-age angst to a new level.  In telling their story, Sparks weaves his magic to celebrate life's fragility.  

And although much of this story is indeed sad and dark, his metaphor of photography reminds us that pictures -- like life -- are all about catching the light.

Frosty Flakes and Mountainous Makes: Pass the Salt, Pretty Please

Dress: Vylette, Kohl's

Chalet Getaway Brooch Barrette

Bag: Circus by Sam Edelman, Kohl's

This post isn't about diabetes-inducing cereal or porcelain god offerings.  It's about winter.  Sort of.  But not really.  What it's really about is this Chalet Getaway Barrette Brooch I made last Monday after we got twelve inches of snow:

Now, we all know that I loathe the cold.  Which means that I'm no fan of mountains, much less chalets.  But even I can't deny that there's something magical about a white winter scene.  (Hey, Frozen's not a goldmine for nothing.)  It's pristine, it's peaceful, and the ice crystals remind me of rhinestones.  And as long as I'm observing it all from the right side of a window, I'm into it.  Maybe that's why I busted out of my beige rut and bought some blue eyeshadow.  Because January is prime time for ice queen eyelids.  No ice required.

Eyeshadow: Revlon, Walgreens

That said, here I am on my snowy porch when that Monday storm was swirling full force (no eyeshadow show-and-tell yet; the package arrived yesterday):

Hat: Nine West, Boscov's

It was so brutal that as soon as the husband snapped this pic, I took myself -- and my tam-o'-shanter -- indoors, where I swapped my icicle suit for pajamas.

Then I promptly parked myself at a window, hot tea in hand, to watch the world from inside.