North Pole Stroll

Tights: Isadora, Zulily

Merry Kitschmas Necklace

Bag: Violet Ray, Kohl's

Bag: Nordstrom

Boots: Mix No. 6, DSW

Dress: Xhilaration, Target

Boots: ShoeDazzle, Zulily

Fabulous Felt Christmas Wreath Brooch

Clutch: Merona, Target

Top: Xhilaration, Target

Ring: PinkBopp

Happy first day of winter!  Given my hatred of snow and ice, you'd think I'd be the first to snap, grumpy-old-woman-style, "Oh yeah?  What's so happy about it?"  But Christmas being just four days away goes a long way to soften the blow.

As does a Christmas-themed winter wardrobe.  For yes, I'm still trotting out the Kris Kringle clothes -- minus the hat.  Unless you count my Santa hat and stocking-print dress.  It's an oldie but a goodie, like most of the things I'm wearing.  Including my fabulous PinkBopp ring, which I proudly bust out each year.  And my ugly sweater-print top, which I wore to cruise Christmas lights.  And last but certainly not least, the lovely lime and black plaid infinity scarf that my sister made me.  I could go on, but I won't.

I wouldn't want to upset the elves.

Christmas Lights, Camera, Action

"This is not my beautiful house, this is not my beautiful wife" isn't just a lyric from a Talking Heads song.  It's what's going on in this picture.  (Well, okay, except for the wife part.)  This lights lollapalooza of a house isn't mine.  But it was the most striking house I saw with the husband and my parents when we drove around looking at Christmas décor over the weekend.  (My mom found it on a Facebook self-guided tour list, so hopefully the very talented homeowners won't mind that I posted a pic.)  It's as dazzling as the Griswald residence.  Only better, because it has a castle.  

Speaking of Christmas Vacation, there's nothing that eases 'tis the season tension like a crazy Christmas comedy.  So when I saw a commercial for the Comedy Central original movie A Clusterfunke Christmas, I had to check it out.  Written by Rachel Dratch and Ana Gasteyer, it's a rom com spoof of those so-bad-they're-good Hallmark holiday features.  Holly Jenkins (Mr. Mayor's Vella Lovell) isn't looking for love when she descends upon a Christmas-themed village.  She's looking to buy a heap of an inn run by eccentric spinster sisters Hildy (Gasteyer) and Marga (Dratch) Clusterfunke.  What follows is a walking, talking Christmas card complete with all the, ahem, hallmarks of a made-for-TV-movie.  You know.  The struggling mom and pop (or should I say sister and sister?) business.  The cookie cutter townspeople.  And, of course, the sophisticated, stressed-out businesswoman and hunky local yokel (Call Me Kat's Cheyenne Jackson) who despise each other on sight but must-have-each-other-now although they barely lock lips.

It was fun to watch a Christmas movie that put a new (i.e. snarky) spin on things.  Not that I don't enjoy the odd Hallmark flick while I'm crafting or wrapping a last-minute gift.  But after stringing my third necklace, I sometimes find the stories too saccharine to keep my interest.  No spurned suitor ever even so much as tosses a mug of hot chocolate in his lady love's Botoxed face.  And that's just not normal.  

Nevertheless, even as A Clusterfunke Christmas satirizes the genre of holiday romance, it's an (albeit tongue in cheek) homage to it.  Which is to say that it takes the best parts of a merry meet cute and then -- bam! -- spikes that sugary eggnog.  Because a little sarcasm never hurt anyone.

And you always hurt the ones you love.

Decoration Vacation: Mites and Lights

Coat: Jou Jou, Macy's

Fabulous Felt Candle Brooch

Gloves: So, Kohl's

Fabulous Felt Christmas Gelatin Mold Barrette

Sweater: Nine West, Kohl's

Dandy Candy Necklace

Candy Cluster Barrette Brooch

Yellow top: Merona, Target

Seasonal Sweets Necklace

We all have our holiday high points.  You know.  Baking, decorating, cards.  Maybe even carols, ice skating, and/or a gag gift exchange.  My focus has been on wrapping presents, as well as reading Christmas novels and coming up with festive outfits.  Which makes sense given my still-bare Christmas tree.  It wasn't until tonight that I lifted the lid off the first storage box of decorations.  Not these, but aren't they fun?  

Anyway, as I arranged some knickknacks around the fireplace, I couldn't help but think that it was beginning to look a lot like Christmas -- at least until I ran into a cave's worth of spiderwebs and thought, more like Halloween!  Not that I was surprised; I'm no housekeeper.  Oh, I do what I have to, but to me, sweeping away the handiwork of arachnids falls somewhere between the to-do list of a Victorian maid and a '50s housewife.  Still, the dust-choked filaments served as a reminder that all was not as it should be -- and, indeed, seldom is.  I guess that's why I liked this passage in Leslie Meier's Christmas Cookie Murder:

"Lucy flopped on her back and stared at the ceiling, gray in the dim light from the hall nightlight.  Above its smooth blankness, she knew, was a jumble of wires and insulation, a century's worth of dust, insect colonies and, no doubt, families of mice.  Tinker's Cove was the same, she thought, a quaint little fishing town with a drug problem." (182)

We're all harboring webs and insects and rodents (although hopefully not in the form of narcotics).  Some of us are just better at keeping them hidden -- whether in clean houses or behind other fronts.

On an, ahem, lighter note, despite getting a late start on my decorating, I made it a point to check out the lights at nearby Smithville.  That's where I am in the first pic.  If you're from across the country or world instead of here in South Jersey, then suffice it to say that Smithville is a faux old-timey shopping village with a big lake and an inn.    

It was crowded and raining a little.  But seeing the sparkly reds and greens gave me all the old Christmas feels.

Unlike those spiderwebs.

Ginger Snap Wrap

A few days before Thanksgiving, I found myself ordering a can of cranberry sauce from Target (I was making a JELL-O mold).  To complete the order, I had to spend thirty-five dollars, so I thought, why not stock up on Christmas wrapping supplies?  So I did, and the paper I was most excited about was this one exploding with gingerbread people.  Two days later, the cranberry sauce arrived with everything else -- except the gingerbread paper.  I tracked it, and the status came up as damaged.  I shrugged and figured it wasn't coming.  

Last week, I started wrapping with the paper I had.  That was another thing.  Unlike last year and the year before that, I was not waiting until the last minute.  Who needs to wrestle with Scotch tape and weirdly shaped packages with Krampus Rudolf's Type A dad breathing down her neck?  Not this girl.  I was going to take my time and carefully wrap and decorate each and every gift while cheesy Christmas movies played in the background.  And that's just what I did.  

A couple of days ago, I was nearing the end when a pole-shaped package arrived on my doorstep.  A few swipes with a scissors revealed my beloved -- and undamaged -- gingerbread people.  As far as Christmas miracles go, I know it's a weak one.  But I'll take it.  

On that note, I hope your wrapping is going gangbusters and that no anthropomorphic baked goods were harmed in the process.

Also, that you outrun Krampus.

Smurf Turf: Bringing New Meaning to Blueheads

Headwrap: Mixit, JCPenney

Last week, I was deciding what to wear for a doctor's appointment when I noticed that the ground was frosty.  Wanting to be warm and comfy, I bundled up in my floral sweat suit (not just for running and reading!), fuzzy blue coat, and favorite headwrap, scarf, and gloves.  But by the time the husband and I arrived at the doctor's office, the sun was bright, and I felt like a boiled burrito.  Still, I kept my cold weather accessories on for a photo op by this boss blue sculpture.  This was a new doc, so I'd never seen the sculpture before and was psyched to match it.  It's the little things! 

As they say (okay, as I say), one blue hat begets another.  So I fished out the others from the ice pond of my closet and styled them with dresses -- no examination required. 

Sweat suit: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's

Palm Flings Necklace
 

Hat: Betsey Johnson, Macy's

Mesa Medallion Necklace

Dress: So, Kohl's

Bag: Mellow World, Kohl's

Hat: Mixit, JCPenney

Rainbow Cherries Necklace

Dress: Lily Rose, Kohl's

When I'm an old lady and my hair turns blue, I look forward to rocking red headgear.

Christmas Party Punch: Deck the Neck

Left to right: Scarf: Boscov's; Purse Charm: A.C. Moore; Earmuffs: Betsey Johnson for Trolls, Macy's

Winter Wonderland Necklace

Sweater: Kohl's

Neon Noel Necklace

December means decking the halls, and what's a necklace if not a neck garland?  So I channeled my inner elf and made these two necklaces all about snowflakes and Santa (Santa, I know him!).  The snowflake one, a.k.a. Winter Wonderland, makes me think of my Great Aunt Celeste's beautiful blue Christmas decorations.  She put blue Christmas balls in her wineglasses and a mirror under her Christmas tree to look like a lake, and I was enchanted.  The Santa one, a.k.a. Neon Noel, is your classic Claus gone glam.  Deep down I always thought that those mall St. Nicks would've been more festive in hot pink and rhinestones.

And festive is the name of the game when it comes to Christmas parties and punches.  Because as George Costanza's father once wisely said, it's a Festivus for the rest of us.

Which has nothing to do with what I just said.  But what the hell -- if calories don't count during December, then neither does reason.

Keep it festive, people.

It's Beginning to Book a Lot Like Christmas

Now that it's December, it's all Christmas all the time, at least when it comes to my reading material.  And just like the season's ugly sweaters, the fluffier the books, the better!  So far, I've read Leslie Meier's Mistletoe Murder and Christina Lauren's In a Holidaze.  And as usual with tales of holiday hijinks, it's the bits about shopping that put me in the spirit.  

In Mistletoe Murder, small-town sleuth Lucy Stone is working the graveyard shift at a wannabe L.L.Bean mail order catalog (this is back in 1991, folks) when her boss is murdered.  Each chapter begins with a description of an item from the catalog, and the compass or knife or ski hat or whatever ends up tying in with the plot.  Cute, no?  Here's one of my favorite listings:

"#5532: An intricately patterned vest knitted in 100% Shetland wool.  Designs include Christmas trees, reindeer, and ice skates.  Dry clean or hand wash.  Natural color with green and red.  Women's sizes: S(6-8), M(10-12), L(14-16), XL(18-20).  $58" (24) 

This little snippet, item number and all, reminds me of picking up the ye olde landline to make a catalog order back in the day.  You'd write what you wanted on the order form, then wait breathlessly while the customer service rep scrolled through her database to see if your must-haves were in stock.  Sometimes, they'd have your size but not your color, and you'd have to make a snap decision whether to go with your second choice or hightail it to the mall.  Online shopping is convenient and all, but it lacks that particular brand of excitement.

What was I talking about?  Oh, right.  The books.    

So, In a Holidaze.  This one's a rom com about time-traveling, lovelorn Maelyn Jones.  Although it offers up mistletoe moments of the toe-curling (spoiler alert: Mae's not lovelorn for long) rather than criminal variety, it's this line about the magic of Christmas presents as opposed to sweet nothings that made me dog-ear the page:

"The pile of gifts under the tree is a hilarious display of adoration, capitalism at work, and our complete inability to moderate ourselves in any way." (258)

People are always going on about how Christmas has gotten too commercial.  And although I totally get the need for kids to understand the reason for the season beyond expanding their Barbie and Hot Wheels collections, I think there's something beautiful about buying your loved ones things you know they'll adore. 

All this, and I haven't even cracked the book called Window Shopping.    

So this Christmas -- or Hanukkah or Kwanzaa or Winter Solstice -- when it comes to reading and retail, I wish you festive stories and hassle-free shopping.

In other words, happy booking and happy looking. :)