All in the Family: A Heart Day at Home

Even a quarantine queen like me breaks out for a Valentine's party.  Every year, my immediate family celebrates with festive food, decorations, and gifts for the kids.  This is the first year since the pandemic that we're doing it again, and I must say I'm excited.  

If you're a fan of The Goldbergs, then you may be thinking, hey, wait a minute, isn't that a little like the Schwartzes?  If you don't know what I'm talking about, then here's the skinny.  On this season's V-day episode, siblings Erica and Barry were horrified to find out that their significant others, Geoff and Joanne (who are also, in this sitcomiest of sitcoms, siblings) celebrate Valentine's Day with each other and their parents.  The notoriously non-mushy Goldberg kids couldn't believe that the Schwartzes liked each other enough to willingly spend a nonfamily holiday together.  I could relate -- with Geoff and Joanne, that is.  (Except for the part where they peck each other on the lips.  Sorry not sorry, Schwartzes, but that's just icky.)  Because it's nice to get together with your nearest and dearest and laugh, even if -- especially if -- the rest of the world is laughing at you.

Not that Erica and Barry stayed snarky for long.  In the space of thirty minutes (or more like twenty, with commercials), they reversed their initial affection rejection and learned to appreciate each other.  Was it weird that this epiphany dawned during a romantic horse-drawn carriage ride?  For sure.  Then again, anyone willing to endure the smell of an equine's backside is in it for the long haul.  Brother/sister, boyfriend/girlfriend, oldster/paid companion, whatevs.  

So, this Valentine's Day, I hope you get to hang with someone you love -- or, even better yet, someone you like.                         

And that you laugh so hard it hurts and burns the calories from all of that chocolate. 

The Head and the Heart: You're So Vein

Caramel Candy Barrette Brooch

Dress: Trixxi, Kohl's

Pretty Pastries Necklace

Strawberry clip: Delia's; Rainbow necklace: Ocean City, Cloud Nine; Yellow necklace: Sonoma, Kohl's; Bow barrette: Carole, JCPenney

Dress: POPSUGAR, Kohl's

Heart of Hearts Barrette Brooch

Top: Candie's, Kohl's

Oh, Deer Necklace

With Valentine's Day upon us, it seems appropriate to mention this: It's funny how pretty, perky, heart-shaped things look nothing like their namesake organs.  Not that you'd want them to and end up buying a blouse emblazoned with blood vessels or a valise sprouting ventricles.  Anyhoo, it makes a strange sort of sense that our idea of the heart's job is just as jumbled as our notion of its appearance.  We say things like, "You're thinking with your head instead of your heart," even though we know that all thoughts and feelings, however illogical, are brewed in our brains.  And that, despite the smug tone of the aforesaid saying, the decisions inspired by our emotions are sometimes the smartest.  

Who knows, maybe I was subconsciously thinking all this when I made these heart barrettes to wear on -- where else? -- your head.  There's something satisfying about reconciling the rational with the romantic by making a cute accessory to show off the noggin.  Specifically, my noggin (although rest assured that these barrettes aren't the ones in my shop; hygiene first, people.).  After all, there are few things in this world I heart in quite the same way as a selfie.     

And as any musician or blogger will tell you, there's more than one way to be vain.

Be Mine to the Nines: One Enchanted Eating

A frilly, heart-shaped box of chocolates is like a girl gussied up for the prom.  So in other words, a bundle of nerves and expectations wrapped in ribbons.  (Did I mention that this particular prom takes place in the '50s?)  Will the quarterback ask Susie Q. to dance?  Or is she doomed to have her satin pumps stomped on by the hall monitor?  It's a gamble, and that box of chocolates, as Forrest so wisely told us, is no different.  Sometimes you score a strawberry center; other times you get stuck with a maple.

That said, here's my collection of Valentine's candy boxes.  I've shown off most of them over the years but thought it'd be fun to photograph them together.  They store accessories and serve as décor in my closet.  Which means that whenever I reach for a ring or brooch, I think of happy times and sweet treats.  Both of which are tastier than quarterbacks.

But never running backs named Forrest.

Women's March Madness

Just before the pandemic, I read and loved Meg & Jo, Virginia Kantra's modern take on Little Women.  And this week I had the pleasure of reading Kantra's follow-up, Beth & Amy.  Set in twenty-first century North Carolina instead of 1860s Massachusetts, Kantra's story takes an in-depth look into the hearts and minds of the four March sisters.  It's an emotional exploration that wouldn't have happened when Louisa May Alcott wrote the original.  Because back when horse and buggies roamed the earth, people -- even authors -- didn't really talk about their feelings.  

Beth is a singer-songwriter touring with -- and dating -- a huge country music star.  But although she's alive in Kantra's version, she's far from well.  Still painfully shy and self-effacing, she keeps a dark secret from everyone, including her sisters.  As for Amy, she remains a go-getting fashionista.  A rising handbag designer -- she cheekily calls her business Baggage --, part of her is still out to prove that Jo isn't the only creative genius in the March matriarchy.  Also, that Jo isn't the only one who has Laurie's -- or, as he's called, here, Trey's -- heart.  So, Beth is a mouse and Amy a peacock.  But despite their opposite personalities, they have one key thing in common; no matter how far they roam, they always long for and return to the comfort of home:

Amy: "All my life I'd dreamed of Paris.  The light, the food, the art, the fashion.  Turned out it was just like high school, a bunch of assholes following me around saying horrible things." (52)

Beth: "It felt so good to be home, to fade into my familiar supporting role.  Not the princess or the fairy or the star.  Just . . . me, one of the March girls, the quiet one who brought home strays and sometimes played guitar." (68)

I love how Kantra crafts the voices of the youngest March sisters.  Amy's is witty and bold yet betrays scars from her past.  Beth's reveals that she doesn't want the spotlight, just the music she plays for herself.

It's also cool how Amy challenges the idea that each of the four sisters is only one thing:

Amy: ' "Ugh.  Why do we do that?  . . . Pigeonhole ourselves.  The responsible one, the smart one, the good one, the pretty one." ' (180)  

Little Women is famous for creating the premise that each of its heroines inhabits a box.  Which in some ways is fun, like a Seventeen quiz.  As in, ooh, am a Jo or an Amy?  A Meg or a Beth?  But once you get past the thrill of that slumber party impulse, you realize it's not realistic.  Because no one is just one thing.  Plenty of women can be responsible and smart and good and pretty and a zillion other things all at once.  Alcott knew this and told us so in subtle ways, but the constraints of her time clouded her message.  That's why it's so compelling -- and important -- when Kantra challenges the one-adjective-per-March-sister rule and, by extension, the limits for all women.  In this way, she expands upon Alcott's classic feminist tale while staying true to the characters we grew up with.  And I dare say that her books, while imbued with the emotional intelligence of adult, of-the-minute women, are as fun as the frothiest teen magazine.   

So, thanks, Kantra.  Keep marching on.  

Swan Con: Romance on the Pun

Dress: Modcloth; Top: Candie's, Kohl's

Red Hot Candy Necklace

White Swan Barrette Brooch

Top: Bisou Bisou, JCPenney

Top: Candie's, Kohl's

Candy Chrysalis Necklace

Black Swan Barrette Brooch

It's finally February, and you know what that means.  No, I'm not talking about that perennially pessimistic, Pennsylvanian, shadow-spying rodent.  I'm talking about Valentine's Day, that magical time when love isn't only in the air, but the hair.  I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I heart the hearts and flowers aesthetic.  That's why I ripped into the proverbial box of chocolates early to make a couple of candy necklaces and a pair of barrette brooches featuring those most OG of lovebirds: swans 

Swans are so beautiful, it's no wonder they drop their feathers everywhere.  There are swan boats, swan songs, and swan-like necks.  There's Black Swan and Swan Lake and Bella Swan.  There are Swanson frozen dinners (cue Jimmy Fallon's "Idiot Boyfriend": "I've got a Swanson's dinner in the freezer, with your name on it."), Ron Swanson, and even the swan on the Schwan frozen food truck.  There are graceful swans and swans that'll peck your eyes out.  And, then of course, there's the romantic ideal that swans  -- and only swans -- mate for life.  

What other avian could a Hallmark junkie want?

Don't say doves.  I don't care how many weddings you've been to where they've been released.  Doves are for peace treaties.  And Prince.  And anyway, they lack swans' drama.  

Because if you're not in danger of losing an eye, then you might as well stay in Punxsutawney.  

Animal Print Stint: A Very Merry Unbirthday to Me

Tights: Xhilaration, Target

As you know, I hit the big 4-Oh in the beginning of the month.  But the family party (okay, get-together, as there were a pod-approved nine of us) took place last weekend -- which gave me an excuse to celebrate all over again.  And if Alice and animal print don't say happy birthday month -- or merry unbirthday, to quote that wonderfully wacky Alice in Wonderland ditty -- then I don't know what does.

Socks, ? (they were a Christmas gift :) 

Skirt: Bubblegum, Macy's

Boots: Jessica Simpson Collection, Amazon

Sweater: Bar III, Macy's

Bag: Betsey Johnson, Macy's

My parents pulled out all the stops, decking their house with pink decorations.  It was the best bash I could've hoped for, with all of my favorite people.  At one point we were covered in streamers, but I decided not to post any pictures of that.  I respect the privacy of others, if not my own.  

Anyway, it's a good thing we partied down last weekend, because this is what it's like out today:

There's fifteen inches of the white stuff here at the Jersey shore.  As always, I took it in from inside my window.  And then promptly hit the couch to watch TV, this time the pilot of ABC's new vineyard-set drama, Promised Land.  It's good; I raise a glass to it.

Even if what's in my glass is cinnamon apple tea.

Of Clowns and Cacti

Another Upside Down Clown Necklace

Top: Crown of Hearts, Alloy

So Many Succulents Necklace

Top: Collectif X, Modcloth

So, Guthrie and Elmer.  I introduced these two a while back, and they're still out there, roaming the desert.  Only now they've picked up a protégé.  His name is Ollie, and his claim to fame is that he can stand on his head.  Why don't we make his acquaintance? 

Ollie didn't know what he'd gotten himself into.  When Guthrie and Elmer picked him up hitchhiking on the outskirts of Twin Terrors, he thought they were just another couple of oldsters.  Sure, they were crotchety as all get out and looked like they'd seen more than their share of bad road.  But it wasn't until they started talking about themselves in the third person that he started to worry.  It was as if they had split personalities.  One half was the geezers who hated clowns; the other half was the clowns.  Ollie almost asked them about it.  But it wasn't the kind of thing he could bring up after trading war stories about Route 66 or commenting on a cactus-shaped cloud.  Especially not after they'd been kind enough to share their chili, even if it was vegetarian and smelled like a compost pile.  No, weird as they were, he was in no position to make waves with these gents.  So when Guthrie asked if he'd join their act at the Sidewinder Saloon, he burped up some chili and said, "Sure."  Now he was onstage -- or on the overturned washtub that passed for a stage -- doing a headstand as the Friday night crowd jeered and catcalled.  He didn't know how women stood it, having their body parts reduced to overripe fruit, their every movement turned into something suggestive.  But he told himself to ignore the drunks and concentrate on what he was doing.  Every time he stood on his head, he did it for a few seconds longer than he had the time before.  It made him feel like he had something to work toward and that he was getting somewhere.  Plus, being ridiculed up there alongside Guthrie and Elmer bonded them more closely and quickly than any campfire or cold one ever could.  Even when, hours later as they made their way home in the stark, inky night, Guthrie and Elmer unleashed a fresh verbal assault on their alter egos.  Ollie considered telling them about his own demons.  His parents had thrown him out when he was ten because they had too many mouths to feed.  But also because they were sick of explaining why their son was such a dreamer and had a head where his feet should be.  Then Guthrie started playing his banjo, disrupting Ollie's thoughts.  When Guthrie broke the banjo over Elmer's head, Ollie knew it would be a long night.         

And that's Ollie!  You can see his likeness taking center stage in the form of a plastic noisemaker in my Another Upside Down Clown Necklace:

The two things that you need to know about this necklace are: 1) The noisemaker was the prize inside a New Year's Eve cracker, and 2) it's called "another" because there was an Upside Down Clown Necklace that came before it.

Noisy is as noisy does.  But nothing's as noisy as Guthrie's banjo.