Giving Pants and France a Chance

Top and jeans: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's

Bag: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's

Enchanted Eiffel Necklace

Bow: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's

Socks: Amazon; Shoes: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's

Top: New York & Company; Pants: Vylette, Kohl's

Shoes: Mix No. 6, DSW

Headband: INC, Macy's

Elephant Anchor Necklace

Sweater: Maison Jules, Amazon; Bag: Skinnydip London, Macy's

Shoes: Betsey Johnson, DSW

Everything But The Kitchen Pink Necklace

It's true.  I'm taking on trousers and the land of croissants.  My pink pants are even from the French-sounding brand Vylette -- although that label has gone the way of the guillotine.  No matter.  I went the extra mile for Francophile style with my Enchanted Eiffel Necklace (because what's the City of Lights sans unicorn?) and my micro review of Jenn McKinlay's Paris is Always a Good Idea. 

Oddly, this romcom can best be described by The Big Bang Theory (Season 5, Episode 9).  Leonard and Penny are on a platonic movie date when Leonard suggests that they see a documentary about building a dam on a river in South America because he's tired of Penny picking romcoms that are "an hour and a half of beach houses in the rain until the woman turns around and realizes that love was here all along."  Penny retorts that that's a great movie and it's starting in ten minutes.  The classic soulmate search trope that Leonard so callously mocks is Paris is Always a Good Idea in a nutshell -- or, more appropriately, a popcorn kernel.  Here are (some of the, remember this is micro) details:  

After hearing that her widowed dad is getting remarried to a woman who won him in a bachelor auction, super-serious-professional-woman-who-doesn't-have-time-for-fun Chelsea Martin (shoutout to Mindy Kaling's Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me?) gallivants across Europe to track down three old flames to reignite her belief in love.  But she can barely choke down a bite of baguette before her office nemesis Jason Knightley pops up and cock blocks her.  Sure, this plot's a little familiar.  But then again, so are the plots of those movies.  And sometimes the familiar is what you need.

I can't say the same for documentaries.  Unless they're about croissants or baguettes or why we love romcoms so much.

Girls Just Want to Have Puns

Delicious Double Scoop Necklace

Tee: So, Kohl's

Skirt: Modcloth

Shoes: Bongo, Kohl's

Bag: Journeys

Belt: Apt. 9, Kohl's

Cheery Cherry Sunglasses

I Heart Unicorns Necklace

Dress: Kohl's

Tee: So, Kohl's

Shoes: Payless

Bag: Call it Spring, JCPenney

Jewel Jumble Necklace

Top: Lily White, Target

Jeans: Vanilla Star, Target

Shoes: Guess, DSW

Bag: JCPenney

Yellow Gumball Necklace

Top: So, Kohl's

Jeans: Earl Jeans, Macy's

Shoes: Ami Clubwear

Bag: Candie's, Kohl's
Sunglasses: Mudd, Kohl's

Backwoods Bling Necklace

Tee: Mudd, Kohl's

Skirt: New York & Co.

Shoes: Payless

Bag: American Eagle, Payless

Belt: Candie's, Kohl's

I always think, "Huh?" when people say "no pun intended."  Because isn't the pun always intended, if even just subconsciously?  That having been said, I've probably logged at least one such infraction somewhere on this blog.  But I'm willing to overlook that if you are.

I don't know where Lena Dunham stands on wordplay, but I can't imagine that she'd be against it.  I've (almost) always liked Dunham, and not just because she favors Etsian necklaces that look like something out of a kindergarten teacher's closet (as documented in the February 2014 Vogue).  It's because this creator and star of HBO's "Girls" is the poster child for taking risks.  So naturally, I was drawn to her collection of essays, Not That Kind of Girl.  Like Shopaholic to the Stars, it has a strikingly hot pink, and therefore blogworthy, cover.  Which made me wonder: Is Dunham being ironic?  As in, pink is for weak girly girls?  Or is she saying the opposite, that pink is empowering?  Or maybe that it's empowering only in the right hands?  Or maybe . . . she just likes pink.  But enough about the cover and its implications; the inside has illustrations!  Check out this kaleidoscopic collage of kawaii-tastic treats including, but certainly not limited to, pretzels, eclairs, pineapples, cheeseburgers, heart necklaces, and exotic birds:

Fun and feminine, its appeal is near-universal.  Although I'm sure that there are some people out there who don't like such things, I sure as heck don't want to meet them.  Anyway, their sweetly retro vibe is in sharp contrast with the book's grittiness, setting the stage for Dunham's unique blend of dark comic naivete.  For it is gritty, despite being reminiscent of Mindy Kaling's Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? And Other Concerns.  You know.  If Mindy Kaling had been raised by an artist in Tribeca instead of a gynecologist in Boston and belonged to the dwell-on-it-until-you-land-in-the-hospital-and/or-psychiatrist's-office school of thought instead of the don't-complain-because-everyone's-got-problems school of thought.  This last bit, by the way, was a lesson that Mindy learned from her mother.  But this post isn't about Mindy; it's about Lena.  So instead I'm going to talk about something that she learned from her mother:

"Luxury is nice, but creativity is nicer.  Hence the game where you go into the ten-dollar store and pick out an outfit you might wear to the Oscars (or to the sixth-grade dance)." (107).

This spoke to me for two reasons: 1) Like so many thirtysomethings, I sometimes get sucked into the pursuit of yuppiness, a misstep that clouds my judgment, making me go all pouty because I don't have a Volvo. Or a Brita water filter.  This quote fixes all that by reminding me that yuppies are yucky.   2) My sister and I used to play the $20 challenge game in Marshalls.  Which is to say we'd go to Marshalls with just $20 and try to buy something cool (far less complicated than most card games and, in my opinion, more satisfying).  Lena's mom gives it to us straight: it's not what you have, but what you do with it.  This optimistic and free-spirited, er, spirit is woven through even the murkiest sections of Dunham's confessional, leave-nothing-out prose, echoing the theme that at the core of every artist surges the need for freedom.  Dunham is as unabashed about this as she is about broadcasting her body and her love of carbs.  Which is nice in a world where self-aware women are (sometimes) dismissed as selfish.  Miranda July puts it best:

"Very few women have become famous for being who they actually are, nuanced and imperfect.  When honesty happens, it's usually couched in self-ridicule or self-help.  Dunham doesn't apologize like that -- she simply tells her story as if it might be interesting.  Not That Kind of Girl is hilarious, artful, and staggeringly intimate.  I read it shivering with recognition." (back cover)

When I first read this quote, my knee-jerk reaction was, "What?!  All those other famous women out there are fake?"  (I'm not kidding; I actually thought this.)  But then I remembered that fame is like any other profession, and as such contingent upon following a set of unspoken but unbreakable rules.  Dunham doesn't seem to fall prey to any such playbook, and for that she should be applauded.

Did some parts of this book make me cringe?  Well, yeah.  Some of them because they were so alien to me, others because they weren't (over-thinking oneself into a tizzy, to my relief, is far more common than I'd previously surmised).  But then, I'm always willing to put up with a little discomfort in the name of authenticity.  Add a good laugh and an even better story, and I'm zipping through it in a weekend.

Which just goes to show that you can't put a good girl down.

You've Got Character

 Hello Kitty Necklace

Dress: Kohl's

Shoes: Journeys

Bag: Xhilaration, Target

Scarf: Boscov's

Blueberry Burst Necklace

Top: Merona, Target

Cardigan: Express

Skirt: Xhilaration, Target

Shoes: Charles Albert, Alloy

Bag: Bisou Bisou, JCPenney

Belt: Tournier Everything's $10 Store

Fluorescent Fruit Necklace

Tunic: Petticoat Alley, Marshalls

Skirt (a dress!): Arizona Jeans, JCPenney

Shoes: BCBG, Marshalls

Bag: Betseyville, ROSS Dress for Less

I'm talking to you, Hello Kitty.  Who else could shine so brilliantly for so long in Sanrio's many-starred sky?  ("Huh?" you may be thinking.  "Who else have they got hanging up there?"  The Star Twins, My Melody, and Keroppi, to name a few.  Okay, to name them all as far as my memory of Japanese kiddie collectibles serves.)  Every time I put on a Hello Kitty piece, I can't help but think of how Mindy Kaling deems doing so to be inappropriate for women over 30, as quoted in her book Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns), an especially ironic occurrence given that her "Office" alter ego Kelly Kapoor gifted her coworkers with Hello Kitty laptop cases one Christmas.  To be fair, I love that book.  But my (ahem) claws come out in the name of so-called faux pas fashion.      

Anyway, the source of all this hoopla is a tag that came off a pair of Hello Kitty sleep socks.  When I saw it I thought that it would make for an excellently eye-catching pendant.  The socks are nice too, even if you can't wear them around your neck.  

Book Report: Lies That Chelsea Handler Told Me

Lies That Chelsea Handler Told Me is an odd book.  But I knew that going in. That's because it wasn't written by Handler herself, but is rather a collection of anecdotes penned by her nearest and dearest.  Each sap expresses outrage at being the victim of one of Chelsea's pranks, then backpedals by insisting that such treatment only proves the mettle of her love.  Each storyteller is also quick to add that the vacations and cash that Chelsea lavishes as consolation prizes aren't bad either.  So, reading Lies That Chelsea Handler Told Me was like reading the outpourings of in-crowd kids simultaneously denouncing and revering their queen bee.  Which was entertaining in a fly-on-the-wall Mean Girls sort of way.  But mostly it made me glad I wasn't one of them.

Back when I posted about Mindy Kaling's Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns), I listed some of Kaling's alternate book titles, one of which was, "So, You've Just Finished Chelsea Handler's Book, Now What?"  Now that I've read both of them, back to back, I can in good conscience say that Kaling penned the far funnier memoir.  Now, I realize this isn't completely fair because Handler didn't write this book pe se (and I did so enjoy Are You There Vodka? It's Me, Chelsea).  Even so, I prefer Kaling's style.  Her benign but trenchant humor makes Handler come off as a menace.  A generous menace mind you, but a menace nonetheless.

Apples and oranges, people.  Apples and oranges.   

Book Report: Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns) by Mindy Kaling

I was excited to read Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns) by "The Office's" Mindy Kaling.  The title really spoke to me, as did the contrast between Mindy's fun pink top and perturbed facial expression.

In some subconscious attempt to prove (if only to myself) that I also read "real" books, I used this Virginia Woolf bookmark.  For the record, this attempt was completely futile.  The last time I read anything by Virginia Woolf was in high school, and even then when I said I liked To the Lighthouse I was lying.

Anyway, Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? is laugh-out-loud funny.  Really.  I was yukking it up like a hyena as I turned the pages, prompting the bf to ask, "What are you reading?"  (This might be a good place to add that the book was a gift from him.  He deserves that much, if only for being cool with serving as my foil on so much of this blog.)

Here are a few parts I particularly enjoyed:

"Here were some titles for my book that I really liked but was advised strongly not to use:

When Your Boyfriend Fits into Your Jeans and Other Atrocities

The Book That Was Never a Blog

Sometimes You Just Have to Put on Lip Gloss and Pretend to Be Psyched

The Last Mango in Paris (This would work best if "Mango" were the cheeky nickname for an Indian 

woman, and if I'd spent any time in Paris.)

So You've Just Finished Chelsea Handler's Book, Now What?" (7)

Then there was Kaling's take on romantic comedies, which were very much like my own (and I suspect most women's).

"I love romantic comedies.  I feel almost sheepish writing that, because the genre has been so degraded in the past twenty years or so that admitting you like these movies is essentially an admission of mild stupidity.  But that has not stopped me from loving them." (99)

Kaling goes on to list several common romantic comedy heroine stereotypes.  My favorites included "the klutz," "the ethereal weirdo," "the woman who is obsessed with her career and is no fun at all," and "the woman who works in an art gallery." (100-103)

Now, I'm ashamed to admit that I, like many Office fans, assumed that Mindy Kaling was like her superficial and sometimes manipulative character, Kelly Kapoor.  Kaling herself pokes at this assumption, going as far as to list ways in which she is and isn't like her onscreen persona.  Here are a few things I didn't know and would never have guessed about her before reading this book:

She graduated from Dartmouth.

All through high school she was a book-reading nerd.

She got her big break by writing and acting in a play about Matt Damon and Ben Affleck called "Matt and Ben." Its poster boasted the tagline "Friendship isn't always about good will."

She's also a writer and co-executive producer for "The Office."  (I know, I know.  Despite years of watching, this somehow escaped my notice.)
    
Of course, now I can't help but watch "The Office" with a fresher eye.  Just the other night I caught the booze cruise rerun and realized that the outside consultant Michael hired is Kaling's best friend Brenda.  I knew this because her character's name was also Brenda and because she looked just like her picture in the book.