Tuesday, May 25, 2021

Might of the Iguana: Think Pink

Top: Bongo, Sears

Belt: B Fabulous; Bag: Sleepyville Critters, Amazon; Black and white bracelet: Mixit, JCPenney; Bow: Carole, JCPenny; Blue bracelet: Cloud Nine, Ocean City; Ring: Mixit, JCPenney

Dress: Everly, Modcloth

Tights: Zulily

Belt: Belt is Cool, Amazon; Flower barrette: Cappelli, ULTA; Pink bracelets: So, Kohl's; Pink pendant: H&M; Light pink bangle: Don't Ask, Zulily; Sparkly bangle: Target; Mermaid keychain: Ella & Elly, Zuily; Dragon bangles: Simply Vera, Kohl's; Heart ring: Candie's, Kohl's; Flower bracelet: Belk's 

Top and skirt: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's

Tights: Hue, Amazon

Blue bangle: Mixit, JCPenney; Yellow and striped bangles: B Fabulous; Red ring: Making Waves, Ocean City; Bag: T-Shirt & Jeans, Kohl's; Blue ring: Michaels; Boots: 2 Lips Too, JCPenney

Dress: Lily Rose, Kohl's

I don't know much about the might of the iguana because I've never had to wrangle it -- or any other reptile -- unless you count trying to get through Tennessee Williams's "Night of the Iguana" in college.  But in that classic, albeit creepy play, the scaly rapscallion in question isn't so much a pest as a symbol of freedom.  And as such, its likeness in this colorful (Sleepyville!) critter clutch makes fashion freedom worth fighting for.  Take that, school uniforms!

Bag: Sleepyville Critters, Amazon

Now, I didn't go to private school, which means that I was free to wear stretch pants and vests far longer than I should have.  But clothes were always important to me, and I felt sorry for anyone forced to wear a standard-issue, identity-stripping skirt and polo.  Even in the lawless halls of pubic school, I wasn't allowed to wear my hat -- a red and white flower-adorned, floral-print cloche that would've been the envy of Blossom -- on picture day.  I still remember the shame of 1) being called out for trying to break the rules and 2) lacking the nerve to go through with the rebellion.  If only I could've tossed my hat high in the air post picture like Mary Tyler Moore (apparently, my idea of badassery looks like a beloved '70s sitcom).  So private school prisoners and hat fans everywhere, this declaration of outfit independence is for you.  

That said, think pink for now but stand by for flag flair, because Memorial Day's right around the corner.  

Iguana, I love when you become a chameleon.

Saturday, May 22, 2021

Mall Crawl Before You Can Catwalk

After a year and two months of buying stuff only online, last weekend I busted out and went shopping IRL.  Three weeks had passed since my second Pfizer shot, and I had a dentist appointment in a few days.  So I thought it was time to mingle with the masses -- and see if I remembered how to drive.  I chose my outfit carefully, settling on a navy sweater with a rainbow stripe in the middle, ripped jeans, navy crushed velvet flats with yellow socks, a quilted red and black shoulder bag, and a side pony tied with a red and white polka dot ribbon.  It turned out to be way too warm -- I was sweating even before I crossed the parking lot! -- but I liked the look, so no regrets.  

My first stop was Macy's.  It was a Sunday, so it was crowded.  I threaded through the racks, careful to avoid fellow shoppers even though they were masked.  I visited my usual haunts, namely juniors, shoes, and costume jewelry, and was disheartened to come up empty.  Everything was picked over, and what was there was lackluster.  So I hotfooted it up to Macy's Backstage, which is the Marshalls clone section.  Fashion-wise, it too was a wasteland, but I did find a cute picture frame, some pastel gnome salt and pepper shakers, and a pink potted faux succulent for my office.  When it was my turn to pay, I slid my finds through the opening in the Plexiglass that separated the clerk and me.  "I like your outfit," the clerk said, "It's very mall girl."  "I'll take it," I answered.  But that's where the good vibes ended.  Because next he asked what brought me to Macy's, and I explained that it was my first outing in a year after getting vaccinated.  "And you chose Macy's?" he asked, incredulous.  "There are far better places!"  I bit back the urge to retort, "I don't think Mr. Macy would agree," and instead gamely uttered, "Don't worry, I'll hit them all," meaning other stores.  But that turned out to be the wrong tack to take.  "You don't have to spend money! You can do anything!" he counseled, wrapping my $20 worth of baubles with the authority of a financial advisor trying to talk his client out of buying a Bentley.  "Now go out and do something fun," he decreed, thrusting the bag at me as if it held dog poo.  Oddly enough, this wasn't the first time I'd been shopping shamed by a clerk.  But it was certainly the most dramatic.  Nothing like dipping your toe back in the pool only to be tossed into the deep end!  

My next and last stop was Kohl's.  I was disappointed that there weren't any exciting clothes there either.  However, I did score two rainbow rhinestone Simply Vera brooches and a faux wicker pineapple picnic server that I now use to store/display beads.  This time the clerk was much kinder, so much so that she erred on the side of anxious.  I felt for her.  I wouldn't want to work in a store during a pandemic, wondering if each and every customer was carrying COVID.   

So, was the expedition a success?  Even before the quarantine, department stores were definitely on the decline.  But being away from them for a year and then seeing them with fresh eyes made me realize that maybe they weren't so great in the first place.  Online, you can find anything in any size, style, or color without having to settle for something just because you could reach out and touch it.  Brick and mortar stores are always there for you, but they don't always have what you want.  They're like that boring banker boyfriend who's punctual and remembers your birthday but whose stories about his coworker stealing his PB&J make you wish you were with a guy who doesn't wear a watch or have let alone manage a bank account.  That said, the best part of the day was, shocker of shockers, the driving -- or, rather, rediscovering the radio (apparently, I like Machine Gun Kelly).  There's just something about being out there on the road with no responsibilities, singing at the top of your lungs.  Another surprise was the, ahem, pedestrian one of walking.  Despite (sort of ) keeping up with my exercises, running in place in my living room just isn't the same as getting out of the house.  Carrie Bradshaw once famously said "shopping is my cardio."  But it wasn't until I became housebound that I realized it was mine too.  That said, some shopping trips may not deliver the goods in terms of actual, well, goods.  But they give you more than you bargained for in other (good!) ways.

So, yeah.  It's nice to know I can still take on the world, snarky clerks and all.  But that I don't have to if I don't want to.

Which means that next time I'll hit up Macy's online instead of heading Backstage.

Tuesday, May 18, 2021

Shrill Quill, Will Thrill: What Happens When Easton Meets West


Last weekend, I binged the third and final season of the Hulu original comedy Shrill.  Based on journalist Lindy West's memoir of the same name, Shrill follows Annie Easton's (Aidy Bryant) journey as a fat twentysomething journalist jousting for justice.  Now, as I said when I blogged about Big Summer, I'm not and have never been fat and don't pretend to know how fat women feel.  But I am a woman and writer who knows all too well what it's like to be weird.  So, I was on team Annie from go.

When we first meet Annie, she's meek on the outside and enraged on the inside.  Although she's a staff writer at Portland's The Weekly Thorn, she's relegated to writing calendar entries, a gig that stifles her creativity.  She's sleeping with a guy who makes her use the back door so his roommates won't see her.  And everyone from strangers to her own mother urges her to lose weight while feigning concern for her health.  Usually, she shrugs it all off.  But one day she stops being quiet and starts questioning everything (indeed, an early chapter in West's book is called "How to Stop Being Shy in Eighteen Easy Steps").  The angrier Annie gets, the more powerful her writing becomes, earning her a reputation as a voice for the voiceless.  This isn't to say that she doesn't make a boatload of bad and hilarious decisions involving but not limited to vandalism, light stalking, and awkward social encounters.  Still, Bryant brings a kind of I-got-this calm to the crazy, reminding us that Annie's not only smart, sensitive, and talented, but worthy of our respect.  This is just one of the reasons why her many wrecked romances rankle.  I had to remind myself that Shrill isn't a rom com, however much I might want it to be, and that Lindy West's own story didn't exactly wrap with her and some dude riding off into the sunset.  But that's okay.  Because Shrill is about something more important, namely accepting yourself even when -- especially when -- no one else does.  

Along for the Shrill ride are Annie's no-nonsense, Nigerian, gay best friend Fran (Lolly Adefope), on-again-off-again bad news boyfriend Ryan (Luka Jones), narcissistic drama queen boss Gabe (John Cameron Mitchell), laidback but put-upon office husband Amadi (Ian Owens), and kooky coworker Maureen (Joe Firestone), whose Carol Kane energy all but levitates from her manic persona and wild curls.  

Some other stuff to watch for: 

1) Annie's dad, who's played by Daniel Stern, the non-Joe Pesci burglar in Home Alone.  (I knew he looked familiar!) 

2) Portlandia's Fred Armisen and Carrie Brownstein (Season 3).  Armisen cameos as Gabe's long-lost bandmate, and Brownstein directs three episodes.

And that brings us to that tired old thing that people do when they start speeches.  Dictionary.com defines shrill as "betraying some strong emotion or attitude in an exaggerated amount, as antagonism or defensiveness."  And to that I say, betray away. Because emotions aren't meant to be hidden.    

After all, the (quill) pen is mightier than the sword, that early and admittedly questionable line about "jousting for justice" notwithstanding.  

Maybe I should've started with the dictionary bit after all.

Sunday, May 16, 2021

House of Holland: Tulips Take Two, Don't Mind if I Do

Bag: Nordstrom

Polka Dot Posies Barrette Brooch

Dress: Trixxi, Kohl's

Rings: Making Waves, Ocean City; Bow: Carole, JCPenney; Pompom: Target; Scarf: Echo, Macy's; Pink and orange bangles: Mixit, JCPenney; Red bangle: B Fabulous; Yellow bangle: Silver linings, Ocean City

Skirt: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's

Shoes: Nine West, Zulily

Daisy Chain Game Necklace

Top: Derek Heart, Macy's

Bag: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's

Bag: Betsey Johnson, Amazon

Tropical Blooms Barrette Brooch

Skirt: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's

Top: Forever 21

Boots: Apt. 9, Kohl's

Bag: Amazon

Skirt: Joe Benbasset, Kohl's

Ring: Cloud Nine, Ocean City; Headband: Colors, JCPenney; Tropical bangle: Zulily; Folksy bangle: JCPenney

Top: Flying Tomato, Marshalls

April showers bring May flowers.  Except when they bring more April flowers (I see you, tulips and lone daffodil) or spring ahead with a hint of summer (that's you, tiki hut hibiscus).  Not too long ago, in my ongoing ode to the Netherlands, I made a tulip barrette so disappointing that it had me metaphorically reaching for the weed killer instead of a watering can.  In case you forgot, here's what it looks like:   

So I tried again and lucked out with this:


It's exactly the zigzag-topped-tulip triumph I'd pictured!  Hurray for persistent crafting.  

Anyway, it's not just The Tote Trove that's busting out all over.  My yard is abloom with azaleas, rhododendrons, and some unknown flowering tree (despite having lived here for almost four years, this is the first time I noticed it!).  Like spring itself, they won't last long, so I'm happy I had the chance to enjoy them.

Next up, a meditation on crabgrass. 

Friday, May 14, 2021

Scenic Route Cute: Meet Me at the Lake House

Top: Marshalls; Skirt: Dollhouse, Macy's; Shoes: Impo, DSW; Bag: LC Lauren Conrad: Kohl's; Belt: Belt is Cool, Amazon; Green bracelet: Cloud Nine, Ocean City; Yellow bracelet: So, Kohl's; Sunglasses: Michaels; Flower barrettes: Made by my sister

First came the cactus.  


Then the palm tree.

Palm Coastest With the Mostest Barrette Brooch

And now the pine tree!


Clearly, I'm a sucker for a series, especially one involving a boss biome (not to be confused with Biodome, even if Pauly at the Jersey Shore would be a good spokesman for the beach) like a desert, beach, or forest.  What can I say?  Making these not-so-little scenic accessories makes me happy.  

So, whether your happy place is a Winnebago worthy of Willie Nelson, a beach shack, a Keanu-inhabited lake house, or even a surreal structure from a '90s B movie, then there's an oversized great escape of a barrette brooch for you.  I, ahem, pine for the I Pine for You Barrette Brooch so much (and not just because Keanu kicks ass compared to Pauly and Willie) that I almost wish I were the kind of girl who enjoyed camping or even glamping.

I guess that's the power of Pine-Sol.

Tuesday, May 11, 2021

Sweet & Showy, Chase & Chloe


Shoes, shoes, and more shoes!  That's just one of the things you've come to expect from The Tote Trove (the blog, not the shop; I can make lots of stuff out of felt and beads, but stilettos aren't one of them).  And today I'm all about one brand in particular: Chase & Chloe.  I never even heard of it until a few years back when I discovered Zulily.  But once C&C's (can I call it that, or will the C+C Music Factory get mad?) rainbow of footwear filled my screen, I was hooked.  There were so many styles to choose from, ranging from retro to contemporary, and looking at them made me feel like a kid in a candy store (hey, it's a cliché for a reason).  Better yet, Chase & Chloe shoes are so affordably priced that it took no time to grow a collection.  Here it is in all its T-strapped, Mary Janed, and slingbacked glory.  True, you've already seen most of it, but I thought it'd be fun to corral it all into a class picture.  Or better yet, a reunion shot of shoes from various decades.  If I squint really hard, I can see a pair of '80s neon pumps (we'll call her Chase) and a pair of '50s spectators (we'll call her Chloe) talking each other's heels off by the punch bowl.  And is that a Lucite wedge leading a conga line?  

Everybody dance now indeed!

Saturday, May 8, 2021

Never Never Netherlands: Layers of Levity

Blouse: Candie's, Kohl's

Dress: Speechless, Kohl's

Blouse: Candie's, Kohl's

Shoes: Chase & Chloe, Zulily; Belt: Marshalls; Bag: Francesca's; Yellow bangles: B Fabulous; Pink bangle: Don't Ask, Zulily


Dress: So, Kohl's

Dress: Xhilaration, Target

Sweater: Hooked Up, Macy's

Good things come in layers.  Cakes, bar cookies (which are a lot like cakes), lasagnas, and, of course, clothes!  Spring is the perfect time to slip on a sweater over a dress, or a dress over a blouse.  Here I am doing just that, twice in front of a windmill.  This household has an affinity for all things Dutch (which is fitting, the house itself being a Dutch colonial).  And it doesn't get much more Dutch than a windmill.  My parents got this one for the husband for his birthday a couple of years back, and when the winds are high, it really gets going.  Just last week it was spinning so furiously that I thought it was going to take off.  So I dashed outside to rescue it.  If only the operation went as easily as that sentence suggests!  Once I wrapped my arms around the cedar cylinder, I realized that it was much heavier than I anticipated.  Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, I thought, dragging it off the lawn, then hoisting it over the cement to avoid damaging it (like Larry David, I respect wood).  I got as far as the back door when I put it down, unsure how to wrestle it up the steps.  Then another wind swept in, tilting the windmill precariously toward my car.  Fueled by a surge of adrenaline (mothers save their kids from getting crushed by cars; I save my car from getting crushed by tchotchkes), I lifted it up the steps and forced it through the door.  Exhausted, I left it in the entryway.  In the cramped space it looked even bigger, like a lighthouse protecting a gray sea -- of tile, that is.  I thought maybe we could keep it in the house for good, dismissing the fear that mice or some other vermin might be squatting inside.  Later that night, when the husband came home, he couldn't believe I'd been able to carry it.  When I suggested that it live with us, he was less than amused.  (Well, actually, he was very amused.  But that didn't make him go for it.)

The next morning, the windmill was back out on the lawn.

I don't think there's anything more to say except to quote the chorus of "Feel Good Inc." from Gorillaz:

"Windmill, windmill for the land
Turn forever hand in hand
Take it all in on your stride
It is ticking, falling down
Love forever, love is freely
Turned forever, you and me
Windmill, windmill for the land
Is everybody in?"

I'm sure that whatever they're singing about is far more serious than the fate of some lawn ornament.  That said, the husband is probably right.  Windmills belong out in the elements, taking chances like nature intended.

And providing shelter for the gorillas.