Monday, March 15, 2021

Sweat Suit Tribute: R&R: Reading and Relaxation

Sweat suit: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's; Blanket: So, Kohl's


Sweatshirt: Macy's

Sweat suit: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's; Socks: GAP; Hair tie: Wild Fable, Target

Recently, I revealed how the quarantine has brought me closer to sweat suits.  And I'm as surprised as you are that it's taken me so long to join this particular pajama party -- and, ironically, to discover that there's more to lounge life than pajamas.  Because of all the stars in the sartorial spectrum, sweats are a special breed.  What other attire simultaneously says going for a run and sleeping 'til Tuesday?  

To that end, R&R usually means rest and relaxation (no, not rest and running, although that would fit nicely with what I just said, wouldn't it?).  But in this post, it means rest and reading.  And whether you're snuggling up to slumber or to a story, you want to be as comfy as possible.  

So here I am, not doing laps, but also not sweating the small stuff.  While wearing my brand-new sweats (try saying that five times fast) and reading two delightful but very different books: Laura Levine's Death of a Gigolo and Grown Ups by Marian Keyes.  If you've read Laura Levine, Marian Keyes, and/or this blog, then you know the drill.  Gigolo is a not-quite ribald romp of a murder mystery chockful of intrigue, hijinks, and, most horrific of all, part-time-private-eye-slash-ice-cream-addict Jaine Austen's (yes, you read that right) attempt to go vegan in the name of true love.  As always, it's cozy, crazy, and reminiscent of sitcoms, which makes sense because Ms. Levine used to write for TV.  Grown Ups, on the other hand, is a chick lit dramedy full of family skeletons, skirmishes, and a good old-fashioned dose of facing up to things.  Although nobody kicks the bucket (except for during a low-rent murder mystery weekend), it's grimmer than Death of a Gigolo.  Sometimes I think that Marian Keyes is the dark side of Sophie Kinsella.  Which is to say that her novels have wit and warmth and glamour -- but also demons.  Gigolo and Grown Ups are both great reads; Gigolo gets high marks for escapist fun, whereas Grown Ups offers a glimpse into the lives of people you probably know. 

Still, when even the land -- no, neighborhood -- of make believe (rock on, Mr. Rogers!) becomes too taxing, there are few things more decadent than grabbing a bookmark, thanking the universe for your sweats -- or for whatever makes you grateful -- and succumbing to sleep.            

Saturday, March 13, 2021

Tulips Times Two, Old Better Than New: Zigzag Brag Reigns Until Next Rhyme

Sweater: Hearts & Roses London, Zulily; Top: Almost Famous, Macy's; Skirt: Mudd, Kohl's Shoes: Chase & Chloe, Zulily; Bag: Nine West, Marshalls

Sweater: Merona, Target; Skirt: Amazon; Shoes: Chase & Chloe, Zulily; Bag: Amerileather (even though it's wooden!), Zulily; Belt: Wet Seal

Forget tiptoeing through the tulips.  Why not blow through them with the swagger of an Olympic sprinter going for gold?  

I say this to show how excited I was about making this Polka Dot Tulips Barrette Brooch.  I thought, I'm not going to make those stylized, zigzag-topped tulips like always.  I'm going to make these tulips realistic, with overlapping, rounded petals.  So I did, adding the pizzazz of polka dots on the leaves and in the bright yellow background.  Then I put my new creation next to a zigzag tulip barrette that I'd made ages ago and realized, oh, there's a reason why everyone makes tulips the zigzag way -- they look better!  So dramatic and graphic and pointy, like a brand-new blade of grass shooting up after winter.     

Polka Dot Tulips Barrette Brooch, Fabulous Felt Tulips Barrette

Still, I wasn't too disappointed.  One of the reasons I work with felt is that if something goes wrong, then I can't take it as seriously as I would if I were working with something like marble (not that I harbor any illusions about my prowess with a hammer or chisel).  Not all brainstorms pan out the way we want, but that just means that we're closer to getting it right the next time.  For example, now I want to try a combo of zigzag tulips and polka dots.  And that may be the best design yet!  Until then, I appreciate my wonky tulips in all of their imperfect glory.      

No shame in that game -- or in sometimes bagging bronze.

Thursday, March 11, 2021

Crave the Rave: Curating Cranberries

Top: Vylette, Kohl's

Three Cheers for Cherries Necklace; You Glow, Girl! Necklace

Bag: Boscov's

Jumper: Current Mood, Dolls Kill

Boots: Betsey Johnson, Macy's

Bracelets from top to bottom: Amrita Singh, Zulily; B Fabulous; Mixit, JCPenney; Steve Madden, Macy's

Jumper: Candie's, Kohl's

Top: Current Mood, Dolls Kill

Belt: Dolls Kill; Bag: Circus by Sam Edelman, Kohl's; Shoes: Betseyville, Macy's

Bracelets: Kohl's

Daisy Star Unicorn Necklace

Skirt: Dolls Kill

Bag: Amazon

Shoes: Betsey Johnson, Macy's

Top: Macy's Backstage

When the husband took these pics, he said that the thick-treaded boots and loafers looked very monster truck Barbie.  And although he was talking about the shoes, I couldn't help but think that it was a sentiment that also applied to the outfits.  Because each ensemble includes at least one thing from Dolls Kill -- in other words, hints of Bratz, Monster High, and other similarly sinister playthings -- just like a tasty but not-quite-top-shelf vintage.  There are also notes of plaid, stars, and sushi.  And plaid, of course, means the '90s and the lumberjack-meets-prep sweet/tart 'tude that goes with them.  So, we're not just talking cranberry wine, but also -- yes -- The Cranberries.  That said, let's raise a glass -- wine or Ocean Spray, you decide -- to dressing up as versions of who we once were with a spit spritz of somebody else.  In my case, an aging, rave-raging schoolgirl.

Even if I've never ever been to a rave and am terrified of zombies.  

Except for the song "Zombie"  That I love.  It's an anthem that transcends time and produce.  

Especially when Andy sings it on The Office.

Tuesday, March 9, 2021

One Climb at a Time: Lisa Turtle Power

Top to bottom: Chase & Chloe, Zulily; Worthington, JCPenney; Chase & Chloe, Zulily

It's not unusual for shoes to be the first thing you see here at The Tote Trove.  But this time, they're not just about style -- they're about making strides -- while in style.  Because March is Women's History Month, and March 8 is International Women's Day.  Which, I'm aware, was yesterday (insert joke about women always being late.  What, no girl-on-girl crime, hashtag Mean Girls, when promoting gender equality?  Okay, Tina Fey, duly noted.)  A few years ago, Stephen Colbert did a bit on The Late Show about this special day, which I remember in a degree of detail because I logged it in my "Stuff to Write about Someday" Word file (most of which is flagged "do not publish until in witness protection").  Colbert was talking about a new Barbie-esque doll that was something worthy but boring, like an ambassador or a crossing guard who moonlights as an accountant.  And he was like, isn't it enough that little girls have to deal with all the issues that come with being female?  Why, in the name of proving themselves, do they have to play with lame toys too?  No one makes boys do that.  They get to play with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles!  

This really resonated with me.  Because wouldn't the truly feminist move be to encourage girls to play with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles too?  Or the frilliest, glitziest Barbie?  Or whatever they want, not for the optics, but for the fun of it?  

So.  In celebration of all things shamelessly -- no, proudly -- frivolously feminine, here's a simply red (cue "Lady in Red") grouping of some of my more photogenic cosmetics.  

Body butter: The Body Shop, Zulily; Elizabeth Arden Red Door, Marshalls; Clinique lipstick: Boscov's; Mulan compact, Zulily

Note the Mulan compact, which is truly badass in terms of girls slaying it, whether on the battlefield or in the bathroom.  

Also, there's a turtle tee!  

Tee shirt, Macy's

Girls, hands off Leonardo; he's mine!  (Sorry, Tina.  I backslid into competitive mean girl mode there.)  

It isn't lost on me that the color scheme of the makeup and the tee is Red Hat Society-approved red and purple.  Because nothing says female empowerment like a posse of post-menopausal, chapeau-domed women commandeering an Applebee's.

Unless it's Lisa Turtle killing it in a  -- what else? -- red hat!

I knew I'd use those Saved by the Bell cards again.

That said, Lisa Turtle Power, although a sick pun if I do say so myself, is too close for comfort to Lisa Turtle Powers.  As in Screech Powers (Dustin Diamond, RIP).  I blame Mattel for starting it all by forcing Lisa to share a card with Screech.  It's not very Women's History Month of them, especially as the birthplace of Barbie.  I smell another comic Colbert exposé.  

Until then, sorry, Lisa.  

And, as always, Tina Fey.

Sunday, March 7, 2021

Rival Goes West: Shape Shifter Drifter

Sweater: Nine West, Kohl's

Long necklaces: So, Kohl's; Belt: Belt is Cool, Amazon

Skirt: So, Kohl's

Skirt: Wild Fable, Target

Bag: Apt. 9, Kohl's

Shape Escape Necklace

Sweater: Nine West, Kohl's

Clockwise: B Fabulous; So, Kohl's; Mixit, JCPenney; Mixit, JCPeneny; Cloud Nine, Ocean City; Delia's

Sweater: Nine West, Kohl's

Clips: Wild Fable, Target

Jeans: L'Amour by Nanette Lepore for JCPenney

Shoes: Betsey Johnson, Macy's

Top to bottom: Amrita Singh, Zulily; Mixit, JCPenney

Luv Betsey, Bocov's

This Shape Escape Necklace is the anchor of the unlikely elements of this post, namely Nine West, citrus, and Fievel.  For one thing, the necklace is teamed with one of three Nine West sweaters.  For another, it appears with a bowl of oranges.  As for the Fievel bit, you'll just have to wait.


First, Nine West.  I've long been an admirer of the beloved brand, picking up pieces over the years in places like Marshalls, ROSS, and Burlington Coat Factory, and sometimes, if on sale, Macy's.  I still remember this Nine West purple suede pouch purse that I got from Macy's back in high school.  I wish I still had it, along with my shiny purple bow purse from Delia's and my sometimes-lilac-sometimes-lavender Coolwear blouse from Macy's that changed in the light.  (Obvi, the takeaway here is that I need to keep a tighter grip on my Grimace gear.)  But back to our Nine West quest.  I was delighted when, a couple of years ago, the brand landed at Kohl's.  I stocked up on tops, skirts, shoes, and even a bag, many of which you've seen.  And along the way, I began wondering about the significance of the Nine West name.  I was pretty sure that it was a place, perhaps even a magical one.  Phoebe Buffay once said that about White Plains, NY, the birthplace of her and Rachel's new apothecary table.  So I turned to that old guru Google and found out that Nine West is the address, namely 9 West 57th St., New York, New York, where the fashion label got its start.  And I was as disappointed as Phoebe when she found out that her supposedly one-of-a-kind flea market table had been mass-produced by Pottery Barn.  Still, deep down I think I already knew that NYC was involved, even if I did insist, for some dubious reason, on believing that the West meant Wyoming or Utah. 

Now, about those oranges. This isn't my first foray into the orange orchard, although it is the first time I used fresh produce as props.  The husband's mom very generously sent us a huge crate of oranges and grapefruits for Christmas, making this staging possible.  Also, it helped ward off scurvy.

And that brings us to Fievel, that feisty cartoon mouse who, much like the American settlers, fought his way through adversity to enjoy the promised land of the West in the early '90s.  (The mouse arrived in the early '90s.  The setters made it here long before that unless you're counting the cast of Friends).  Which just goes to show that things can change when you least expect them to -- or when you most expect them to, in the case of the Nine West thing.  But wherever you roam, whether it be White Plains, Wyoming, or somewhere out there that exists only in your mind, I hope that you always feel like you're home.

And that you never have to compete with a rodent.  Or, worse yet, kill a rodent you love.

Thursday, March 4, 2021

Daffodil Frill Fits the Bill

The other day, this plant on my windowsill bloomed.  I hadn't even known what it was going to be (the husband, our resident plant guru, was the one who gave it a home).  So when I saw that it was a daffodil, my favorite flower, I was excited, so much so that I plonked a piece of blue poster board behind it and snapped away.  

Aside from loving this blossom's golden, graphic, crown-like look, I'm also into its name.  Daffodils make me think of Daffy Duck, the adjective "daffy" (a.k.a. not all there), and the store Daffy's, which may or may not have gone bankrupt.  Put them together, and you've got a ditsy duck, flower in bill, trolling for bargains.  Not a bad gig.

Also, maybe Daffy Duck is snacking on Laffy Taffy.  Because people dig candy and words that rhyme.  

And they need the sugar to fuel the shopping.

Tuesday, March 2, 2021

Corona Chronicles: Daisy Chain Gang

Top: Daisy Fay Earrings, Daisy Star Earrings 
Bottom: Daisy May Earrings

During the week, my parents watch my nephew and niece while my sister and her husband are working.  Sometimes, the kiddies like to get into my mom's costume jewelry box.  They love the variety of colors and shapes, piling on the bangles and wearing the necklaces as belts.  My mom recently mentioned that seeing all of her beloved things sometimes makes her sad because it reminds her that before the quarantine, she used to wear them out to dinner, to the movies, and on trips, back when, as she put it, she had a life.  That got me thinking about my own jewelry, not so much wearing it (because I do that here, dear blog), but about selling it because I haven't moved a piece since I closed my Etsy shop last March.  I thought about what my mom said and about what that jewelry would say if it could.  So here's what I imagine might go on in that seemingly inanimate world, starring three pairs of earrings I made last week.

"How long do you think we've been in here?" squeaked Daisy May, the rhinestones in her teardrop charms winking.  

Daisy Fay sighed.  It was a sound that had become common, if incongruous with her cheerful cherry charms.  "You know it's been almost a year." 

Daisy May slumped in the corner, resigned to yet another nap, leaving Daisy Fay to contemplate the jungle of junk jewels around her.  These brooches, bracelets, and necklaces were her friends.  She remembered when their owner, Annie, had chosen Spotty Dottie, a yellow polka dot bangle, and Rainbow Moon June, a celestial-themed charm necklace, to wear along with her own earring self out to dinner back in mid-March of 2020.  As always, Annie sang Don't Worry, Be Happy as she got ready, pausing with a little laugh to tell her husband, Danny, that the night's outing would be their last supper.  The news about the spread of COVID-19 was growing worse every day, and Annie and Danny had decided that they would have one last hurrah before quarantining.  They had feasted lavishly that night, indulging in stuffed mushrooms, mozzarella sticks, and double fudge brownie sundaes along with their surf and turf.  Daisy May had enjoyed the fanfare, shining even more brightly when the waitress complimented Annie on her earrings.  Sure, Spotty Dottie and Rainbow Moon June had bristled, bitter because no one noticed them.  But after the first week in the dark of the unopened drawer, the feud had faded because all they had was each other.  

"Do you think we'll ever come out again?" Spotty Dottie asked Daisy Fay at the end of that week.  

"I don't know," sighed Daisy Fay.  

She herself wondered if Annie might slip her through her earlobes for a Zoom meeting or even just to watch TV.  After all, wearing jewelry made Annie so happy when she went out; why couldn't it bring her the same joy when hibernating at home?  Deep down, Daisy Fay didn't think it would happen, though.  But she didn't want to admit that to Spotty Dottie -- or to herself.  Now it was nearly twelve months later, and the drawer had opened only twice, once when Annie reached for a green ring to match to a paint chip for the living room, and once to confirm that she hadn't donated a Bakelite bangle (they called her Baker Betty, on account of her origin and her considerable girth) to Goodwill because she'd been on eBay and found out it was worth two hundred dollars.  

To pass the time, Daisy Fay and the others played Truth or Dare, Never Have I Ever, and Twenty Questions.  Daisy Fay learned lots of interesting things.  For example, once when Annie's sister had borrowed Daisy May, Daisy May ripped the sister's earlobe on purpose because the sister called her cheap.  And Tiger Eye Tina, a snazzy striped ring, revealed that Annie had pinched her from the clearance tray at Macy's and wore her right out of the store.  Tiger Eye Tina erupted into giggles at the memory, exclaiming, "Now, that's what I call a five-fingered discount!"  But the biggest surprise was that Daisy Star had been brainstorming ways to escape.  "If we all link to each other," she explained, "I think we can build the momentum we need to force the drawer open."  

Everyone was quiet.  Then a small whimper rippled the silence.  It was Daisy May, her teardrop charms living up to their name.  "I used to think of us as a daisy chain, as something that brings happiness.  But now we're just a daisy chain gang, trapped here like prisoners."  

Daisy Fay started to tell Daisy May not to be so melodramatic, but when she tried to speak nothing came out.  She was tired of being the one everyone turned to, especially when she didn't have anything good to say.  Then she heard the familiar sound of wood hitting wood, only more clumsily, as if the person on the other side of the drawer didn't know what he or she was doing.  Soon a sliver of light sliced the dark like a laser.  Unintelligible gurgles replaced the wood sound, and a toddler grinned down at them.  

"Sparky!" the toddler giggled, her chubby, sticky fingers closing around Baker Betty.  

"Oh no, sweetie, not that one."  Annie delicately yet firmly extricated the vintage bauble from the toddler's grasp.  The toddler screamed, then burst into tears.  Annie plucked Bubblegum Belinda from the pile, then deposited her at the toddler's feet.  Transfixed, the toddler stopped crying and picked it up.

Under ordinary circumstances, the jewelry would cringe at the thought of being manhandled by a saliva-slicked rugrat.  But these times were anything but ordinary.  They were thrilled to be sprung from their cell, appreciated by even the most dubious of admirers.  So they cheered with all the pent-up hope of nearly three-hundred-and-sixty-five-days, releasing an exuberant roar.    

Annie cocked her head. "Did you hear something?"   

The toddler looked up at her and smiled, Bubblegum Belinda's bright pink plastic encircling her tiny wrist.  "Sparky talk!" she insisted, then dissolved into laughter.  It was the most beautiful sound that the jewelry had heard since even before the pandemic.  

"Sparky talk?  You're such a little silly!" Annie tickled the toddler, which lead to more laughter.  "Jewelry doesn't talk!  Your grandmom's hearing things."  

That made the jewelry cheer again, although this time inwardly.  They were delighted that the toddler heard them, connecting with them on a level that adults couldn't.  But they didn't want to cause a stir and risk being shoved back into captivity.  So they stifled their mirth and savored being out in the world. 

Even if, these days, the world had shrunk down to one room.  

Before I go, I'd like to point out that although this story was inspired by real events, it's fiction.  To my knowledge, none of my crafty creations have the gift of speech.  Although if I find out that they do, then I'll have to start charging more -- or less, depending on what they say.  

By the way, my mom did call her last dinner out her "last supper."  

But rest assured that she's no shoplifter.