The Drawbacks of Tiebacks: (Not So) Fast Food and Matters of Art

Yellow Rainbow Glow Necklace 

Yellow Rainbow Glow Earrings

Yellow Rainbow Glow Purse Charm

Top: Candie's, Kohl's

Shorts: Merona, Target

Shoes: Betseyville, Macy's

Bag: Marshalls, embellished by The Tote Trove

Belt: Izod, Marshalls

Bow: The Tote Trove

Non-tassel purse charm: The Tote Trove

Ah, tassels.  First made popular, not by hippies, but by Scarlett O'Hara when she, in the ultimate necessity-is-the-mother-of-invention moment, tore down those curtains to make that green dress.  Fortunately, I didn't need to venture any further than the nearest craft store to get the ingredients for my latest passel of tassels and pompoms (a phrase, by the way, that I say far too much on this blog).  Not that my shopping trip wasn't without its own challenges.  Oh, big-box-craft-store-that-shall-remain-nameless, you tried to deny me my discount.  But I wouldn't let a little thing like a barcode-less coupon stop me.  Anyway, in a nod to Gone with the Wind's groundbreaking green dress, I paired my Yellow Rainbow Glow trio (that's what I named my passel; nice, no?) with an emerald ensemble.

Speaking of which, it's funny that a character named Scarlett is best known for wearing green, first for the aforementioned drape dress, second for the green-print white one at the Twelve Oaks picnic.  (Yes, there's the red dress too.  The one that gets her into all the trouble.  Still, it's a sad second fiddle-dee-dee to its less va-va-voom verdant sisters.)   Then again, maybe this color conundrum makes sense.  Because Scarlett is a woman of contradictions.  For instance, she stuffs her face before said picnic in the privacy of her own home (okay, plantation) so that no one will think her unladylike for stuffing her face in front of others.  She doesn't want to do this and in fact fights it, but it's an unwritten rule of the antebellum South, and, like the South itself, she surrenders.  Yet Rhett, if given the opportunity, would have seen past such subterfuge.  I think that if he'd said, right from the get-go, "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a ham (about your weird secret eating), then a lot of heartache -- and perhaps heartburn -- could have been avoided.

The same could be said for Mr. Darcy and Bridget Jones and lots of other iconic couples.  Which just goes to show that being a woman who likes food and falling in love (so a woman who, in other words, breathes), living in any time or place is in a real sisterhood of the traveling pantaloons situation.

Kind of makes you rethink sloppy seconds.

Bittersweet Treat: One Last Helping of Hecks

 Fabulous Felt Strawberry Banana Custard Barrette

Fabulous Felt Ice Cream Sundae Barrette 

 Fabulous Felt Orange Vanilla Custard Barrette

Sweater: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's
Shorts: Merona, Target
Bag: Modcloth
Shoes: Delicious, Zulily
Sunglasses: Michaels

"We all love ice cream.  That doesn't mean we have to wear it."  So said Sue's bestie Brad to her on "The Middle" when Sue was trying to dress more grown-up to impress Sean Donahue of the perfect-Donahue-next-door-neighbors fame.  "But I like wearing things that are a little different," Sue protested.

Me too, Sue.  Me too.

The series finale of "The Middle" aired this past Tuesday.  So, in honor of it and Sue and all things quirky and different, I made these ice cream barrettes.  The sundae one is very similar to a barrette I made years ago (see below), only better.  I guess I learned something in my nine years of working with felt.  Just like I learned something watching nine seasons of "The Middle."

What can I say about this show that I haven't already said?  That it's about a lower middle class family trying to get by in middle America?  That it never got the attention it deserved because it's about ordinary, salt-of-the-earth Midwesterners instead of shiny Californians or jaded New Yorkers?  That it's as hilarious as it is heartwarming?  All of these things are true, but none of them capture the essence of this show or how much it means to me.

So the best I can say is that it ended the way it was supposed to.

Warning: There are spoilers ahead.  Not unlike all-star appetite spoiler ice cream.

Every character's story wraps happily, although not easily, which is fitting for the hard luck Hecks.  The focus of the hour-long episode is Axl's (Charlie McDermott) move to Denver to start a new job.  Frankie (Patricia Heaton) is beside herself about losing her oldest child (we know it's serious when she breaks into her nightstand cookies) but hides behind forced cheerfulness.  And she almost makes it, even on the long family road trip to deliver Axl to the Mile High City.  But then the kids start bickering about being without their cell phones (Frankie told them to power down when she found out that they'd blown through their data plan), and Axl says that they can take him off the family plan because his new job comes with a phone.  And Frankie snaps.  She makes Mike (Neil Flynn) stop the car, they all get out, and she goes on a rant about phones and family plans and how the plans keep the families together.  Then she says that it's the end of an era and that nothing will ever be the same, all against the backdrop of Indiana's wide, open spaces and, of course, that old road less traveled.  And  Mike hugs her and says, in his simple, wise way, that that's the way it's supposed to be.

Another show might have had Axl change his mind and stay in Orson.  (I'm talking to you, "Full House," using Michelle to guilt Uncle Jesse and Aunt Becky into abandoning their newlywed move to hole up, refuge style, in the Tanner family attic).  And another, entirely different kind of show, might have had him never return to Orson at all.  But neither of these scenarios would be right for the Hecks.  Which is why the flash forward sequence that comes next seems so seamless.

Years later, Axl is living in Orson again, and he has three shirtless, wild-haired, sullen sons just like him.  Brick (Atticus Schaffer) is a famous author of young adult novels that feature a magical backpack based on the one he used to call his best friend.  It's a dream come true for every awkward, book-loving outsider out there and gently reminds us that Frankie was right a couple of episodes back when she finally made peace with not being able to fix her weird kid.  Because now he's a weird adult who makes weird kids feel less alone in their weirdness.  After several false starts, Sue (Eden Sher) finally marries Sean, literal boy next door, doctor, and Axl's Mr. Nice Guy best friend.  This is her fairy tale ending, even if she had to go through being the almost-fiance of Axl's other best friend, the well-meaning but doofusy Darrin, to get it.  Who's officiating the ceremony?  None other than guitar-strumming, it's-hard-being-a-teen-singing Reverend TimTom, of course.  And as Frankie tells us, in this way, the Hecks finally get to be Donahues.   

The episode wraps back from the future to the kids arguing in the car, nothing but blue sky and open road ahead.  It's the kind of everyday, happy white noise that slices through the sadness of a good thing coming to an end.  Finally, Brick says that this was why he didn't want to sit in the middle (seat, that is; seat pecking order was a real bone of contention earlier on), then does his echo thing and whispers "the middle" as the car rolls on into the cornfields.

So.  What did I learn from the Hecks?  That happy lives are messy lives and that the only real things are the people who love you.  And that you should always, always pack a backup snack bag in case you leave yours on the highway.  I like to think that I already knew those things, but the truth is that I know them better now.

I guess that's what they mean when they say that the truth lies somewhere in the middle.

Who Lives in a Pineapple Amidst the Twee?

 Tropical Tassel Necklace

Painted Desert Necklace

Top: Jennifer Lopez Collection, Kohl's

Skirt: Candie's, Kohl's

Shoes: Christian Siriano for Payless

Bag: H&M

Sunglasses: Relic, Kohl's

Tote.  Trove.  Lad-y!  Or, maybe I should have asked, who lives in a Dutch colonial amidst the pineapples?  (SpongeBob and Patrick would understand; Squidward not so much).  Have I moved to Hawaii?  Or to an alternate universe with a tropical farm market run by cartoons?  If only.  No, I'm talking about plain old pedestrian knickknacks.  The husband and I decided to put one of the pineapple persuasion in every room of our house.  Out of all of them (and there are many), only these two are photogenic.  The other pineapples already hate them and are starving themselves with the hope that they'll be picked next time.

The door knocker was originally brass, but the husband painted it in vibrant shades of green, brown, and yellow.  He spent a lot of time getting the brown just right.  It turned out great, really popping against the red door.

Speaking of home decor, I recently saw a pillow (IRL or on Pinterest; I can't tell the difference anymore) that said "I'd rather have a passport full of stamps than a house full of stuff."  And I thought . . . nah, I'll take the stuff.  Partly because I hate packing and hotel duvets and tour buses with guides named Eugene.  Partly because I love stuff.  Buying stuff, collecting stuff, finding places to put stuff, wearing stuff, photographing stuff, pinning stuff, writing about stuff, looking at stuff.  You know how Oprah says, "I love bread!"?  Well, that's how I feel about stuff.  So, when I sat down this week to make some new stuff (and by stuff I of course mean necklaces), it made sense that it would involve pineapples (albeit tiny ones).  And also a cactus.

Good old P & P.  A pair of prickly pals, to be sure -- but more than that, friends to the end.  Kind of like SpongeBob and Patrick.

But not Squidward.  No one likes that dude.

Dish Out of Water: Mother Mermaid Brigade

Bikinis: Venus 

Swim Cap Cutie Brooches

Maybe your mom was an Olympic swimmer.  (Okay, YWCA league swimmer, second string).  Or maybe she took you to the community pool every weekend and disappeared behind the latest issue of Vogue while you dodged loogies and played Marco Polo.  The point is, we all have our own chlorine-slash-sunscreen-soaked memories.  And our cruise director (Lifeguard?  Swim coach?  I don't know; this metaphor is getting away from me faster than a Swimmie sucked up by a pool vac) was always good old mom.  

With Mother's Day just behind us and Memorial Day fast on her kitten/wedge/stiletto heels, what better way to say thanks to matriarchs everywhere than with a little splish splash flash of felt?  I don't know about you, but I've always been a fan of the paradoxically frumpy glam charm of a skullcap smothered by flowers.  Still, I had my doubts that this awesomeness would translate to my hat lady brooches.  Mostly because, before I added the flowers, the caps looked like hard-boiled eggs or alien heads or, horror of horrors, bicycle helmets.  But the more color I added, the better they got.  By the time I was done, I had a bevy of bathing beauties, or, more to the point, red hot mamas.  Unless that's inappropriate.  Poll, please?  Nine out of ten moms say no.  And the tenth one swims in a parka.  

So, it's official: rocking a swim cap is the best way to play retro.  Not that we needed a poll for that.  

In the retro department, anything beats doing dishes.

South of the Border Hoarder: Let's Taco 'Bout Brooches

South of the Border Brooches 

Top: Flying Tomato, Marshalls
Skirt: ROSS, Dress for Less
Sandals: MIA, JCPenney
Bag: DSW, embellished by The Tote Trove
Sunglasses: The Tote Trove

What's mean and green and screams Cinco de Mayo?  Guacamole?  No.  Margaritas?  Guess again.  It's nothing edible at all, but our old amigo Kermit (unless you count frog legs as food, which I do not), and he isn't really mean of course, unless he's had a tiff with Miss Piggy.  You may recall that the husband and I outfitted him in a jaunty red scarf this past Christmas.  Now that it's spring, the husband asked me to pick him up a tiny straw hat on one of my many craft runs.  So I did.

It's a little small, but I think that only adds to its charm.  It came in a pack of ten (whoo-hoo!), so I decked out the extras as brooches.  Luckily, I have a whole drawerful of pompoms, which was perfect for this Cinco de Mayo-themed project.  

The finished quasi-sombreros remind me of those straw hat barrettes that were popular in the early 1990s, peddled by places like Claire's (all roads lead back to Claire's, it seems).  Only, those were a little bit country, with pastel bows and flowers, whereas these are a little bit rock and roll, all boho and neon and befitting a mini mariachi band.  Here they are festooning a southwestern wall hanging I have yet to hang in my office, otherwise known as succulent central.  The current cactus count in there?  21.

Anyway, whether you're hitting the local cantina or hanging out at home, festive flare fires up the fun factor.  Well, festive flare and jalapeno poppers.  To which I say, no gracias, as I have an unadventurous, chicken-and-not-hot-cheese-based palate.  

That's why I'll have the quesadilla.  

Fresh Fruit and Fresh Prints: Panda-monium at Nabisco

 Random Rose Necklace

Tee: So, Kohl's

Pants: Macy's

Shoes: Guess, DSW

Bag: Target

Sunglasses: Target

Fabulous Felt Panda Bear Brooch

Top: Bisou Bisou, JCPenney

Skirt: ELLE, Kohl's

Shoes: 2 Lips Too, JCPenney

Bag: Betsey Johnson, Macy's

Belt: Wet Seal

Jacket: Worthington, JCPenney

Hip Hippo Hooray Necklace

Blue blouse: L'Amour by Nanette Lepore, JCPenney

Yellow cami: Bisou Bisou, JCPenney

Pants: Xhilaration, Target

Shoes: Betseyville, Macy's

Bag: Target

Sunglasses: Target

They say that rap and rock can't make beautiful music.  That they're too different, too diametrically opposed to share the same stage.  But sometimes it's the differences in things that make them stronger, adding layers and contrasts to illuminate new points of view.  Take these outfits.  They've got a kitchen sink aesthetic and should look like uncurated graffiti.  But instead they're harmonious and eye-catching, unified by the very elements that set them apart.  With fruit slices, bold bling, and loud pants-a-plenty, they hit all the right style notes (at least to this admittedly awful singer).  Especially the pants.  A little bit MC Hammer, and a little bit zuma, they're like a time machine back to pre-Jersey Shore MTV.

The skirt outfit was challenging.  I wore it last week, leopard trench coat and all.  I felt like a schoolmarm who moonlights at McDonald's and also, maybe, the zoo.  And I thought, what would make this look even more wonderfully wacky?  An animal pin, something cute but uncomplicated, and then I had it -- a panda.  Also, a shot of some animal crackers, which would require a trip to Target.  But that was no hardship, because I love scoping out the Dollar Spot.  I always find the best stuff there -- seasonal stuff, cheap stuff, and stuff that no one else wants.  This week it was the fruit clutches (which are really bathing suit bags, although they'll hold my lipstick and license long before a bikini) and party sunglasses, the likes of which I've seen only on Pinterest.  Why do people wear "fun" sunglasses only at parties, anyway?  Why not rock them at the DMV or grocery store?  (Well, maybe not the DMV; those people would probably taze you.)  Because errands need a dose of adrenaline more than an already off-the-hook rager.

And yes, I know that no one says "off-the-hook" anymore.  Or, for that matter, "rager."  But I love words, so much so that I use them past their sell-by dates.

That's why you'll find me at ShopRite.

Peach Pit Bit: Tassels and Feathers and Pompoms, Oh My

 Pom Flings Necklace

Sherbet Shenanigans Earrings

Hoodie: Macy's

Skirt: So, Kohl's

Boots: 2 Lips Too, JCPenney

Bag: Betsey Johnson, Boscov's

Geometric Electric Necklace 

Jagged Little Thrill Earrings

Top: Wet Seal

Shorts: Merona, Target

Bag: DSW, embellished by The Tote Trove

Shoes: First Love by Penny Loves Kenny, JCPenney

Scarf: A.C. Moore

Sunglasses: The Tote Trove

Seeking Sedona Necklace 

Feather Duster Earrings

Top: Zulily

Shorts: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's

Flip flops: Sea Star, Brigantine

Bag: Nordstrom

Sunglasses: Brigantine beach shop

I was going to call this post Coach Says Three Cheers for Coachella.  But Coachella was last weekend.  And also, I don't like that title.  So I went with this one instead.  Even though this post has nothing to do with 90210 except for two tops in the same shade as the show's namesake hangout, and tassels and feathers and pompoms, oh my sounds like the name of a southwestern strip club.  

Still, such boho accouterments make me think of Coachella, and Coachella makes me think of that cotton commercial where the woman in white takes off her big, floppy hat and dives down into the mud.  I'm all for taking chances.  But I can't help but think that this supposedly liberating act of rebellion creates more problems than it solves.  (And no, this has nothing to do with my distaste for cotton and my unapologetic allegiance to its nemesis, polyester.)  As in, where is she going to hose herself down afterward?  Certainly not in a yurt or port-a-potty!  Also, you know that that mud isn't coming out no matter how much fun Big Cotton wants her to have.  So she'll end up dirty and sad and most likely alone after her still-squeaky-clean girl squad ditches her for a pack of bun-wearing dudes who pointed and laughed as they watched the whole thing (you saw their faces; you know it's happening).  This is assuming, of course, that she didn't break anything and launch a lawsuit, the best outcome of which can be only a hemp sack full of beads and patchouli.  

Whew.  I don't know where that story came from.  I've never been to Coachella and don't ever plan to be, and the only yarn I know is the rainbow-colored kind in this Pom Flings Necklace.  Would you believe that the pompom started life as a giftwrap doodad?  Or that the pendant and charms in the Geometric Electric Necklace and Jagged Little Thrill Earrings were meant to remain -- horror of horrors -- unadorned?  Then there are the "jewels" in the Feather Duster Earrings and Seeking Sedona Necklace.  Some, I'm sure, would say that they would've been simply elegant on their own, but to me, plain Jane stones without the one-two fruit punch of kitsch and neon are like bread without butter.  

Oh, festival flare, you haven't a care, so fun to make, so easy to wear . . . so long as you stay away from the mud pit.  

Don't be like the floppy hat lady.  Always pick polyester.