Drumroll/Jellyroll Please . . .

 Fruit Fete Necklace

 Great Scottie Dog Necklace

Top: Bongo, Sears

Skirt (a dress!): JCPenney

Shoes: Worthington, JCPenney

Bag: Bisou Bisou, JCPenney

Jacket: BCBG, Macy's

Sunglasses: JCPenney

Red Bow Rainbow Barrettes

Top: Bongo, Sears

Skirt: Modcloth

Shoes: Betseyville, Macy's

Bag: Xhilaration, Target

Jacket: Candie's, Kohl's

Sunglasses: JCPenney

 Sally Starfish Bow Barrettes

Top: Bongo, Sears

Skirt: Material Girl, Macy's

Shoes: Penny Loves Kenny, DSW

Bag: Nine West, Marshalls

Jacket: Bisou Bisou, JCPenney

Sunglasses: Target

 Abbie Apple Bow Barrettes

Top: Lily White, Alloy

Jeans: Bongo, Sears

Shoes: Payless

Bag: Marshalls

Jacket: Hot Kiss, Marshalls

Sunglasses: Rampage, Boscov's

 Haute Tropics Gumball Necklace

 Polly Pink Hearts Necklace

Top: Bongo, Sears

Skirt (a dress!): Kohl's

Shoes: City Streets, JCPenney

Bag: Apt. 9, Kohl's

Jacket: Abbey Dawn, Kohl's

Sunglasses: Candie's, Kohl's

 Too Hot Teapot Necklace

Top: Bongo, Sears

Skirt: Forever 21

Shoes: Chinese Laundry, DSW

Bag: Candie's, Kohl's

Jacket: Decree, JCPenney

Belt: Wet Seal

Sunglasses: Candie's, Kohl's

Because on New Year's Eve we're still in pa-rum-pum-pum-pum territory, which means a bounty of drumsticks -- chicken, ice cream, and anything else hanging by the buffet.  (Also, candy, as represented by the above bargain basement tree garland.)  On the subject of drums, every outfit in this week's post includes a Bongo item from Sears.  Because I've had the pleasure of rediscovering Bongo lately.  If you were a child of the 1990s, then you may have picked out a pair of Bongo jeans for the first day of school.  Back then you could find them at JCPenney, sometimes in a funky pattern befitting their namesake, that most exotic of the percussion instruments.  Then it all disappeared for awhile, only to reemerge as a fashion phoenix at the retailer best known for wrenches.  New and improved, the brand has moved beyond denim to infiltrate every nook and cranny of the wardrobe spectrum.  It's good stuff, fun and affordable with just a hint of rockabilly retro, and I'm so excited about it that I think that "The Walker" by Fitz and the Tantrums  ("I walk to the sound of my own drum . . .") should be its theme song, a comeback anthem that boldly proclaims so what if it's cousins with Kmart?  Which is fitting, what with drummers being known for their off-beat behavior.  You know.  Animal from the Muppets, Travis Barker from Blink-182, Ringo Starr from the Beatles --  also, that other, lesser-known Ringo from Los Lonely Boys.

So let's have a listen, shall we?  I'll provide the lyrics if you hum along in your head, or, if your head isn't earworm friendly, then if you zip on over to iTunes.  Fitz and the Tantrums' drummer, by the way, is John Wicks.  Not to be confused with the title character in that Keanu Reeves movie.  Which, now that I think of it, was John Wick.  Still close enough for the poor guy to get some weird fan mail, though, don't you think?

"Ooh, crazy's what they think about me
Ain't gonna stop cause they tell me so
Cause 99 miles per hour baby,
Is how fast that I like to go.

Can't keep up with my rhythm
Though they keep trying.
Too quick for the lines they throw.
I walk to the sound of my own drum,
It goes, they go, we go, hey yeah yeah yeah"

Prose like that deserves some pastry (figuratively speaking, of course, as I'm certainly not going to box up a pie for Mr. Wicks after that bit about fan mail).  Indeed, dessert and drums: no sweeter way to roll.

Palm Trees and Water Skis: Caribbean Christmas, You've Got Game

Christmas Candy Necklace

Sweater: Mossimo, Target

Jeans: Mudd, Kohl's

Shoes: Ami Clubwear

Bag: Nordstrom

Sunglasses: Michaels

No, I'm not jetting off to a tropical island this Christmas, just wearing a tropical sweater.  This men's Mossimo ugly Christmas sweater from Target was certainly effeminate enough on its own (badass beach bum snowman notwithstanding) without me adding a necklace.  Not that I really think this sweater is ugly.  But then, my barometer for such things is somewhat dubious, "bigger is better and gaudy is good" being my personal mantra, and not just during December, as The Little Book of Christmas Joys author H. Jackson Brown Jr. intended, but 365 days a year.

Speaking of Christmas books, I read a really excellent one just yesterday called The Book of (Holiday) Awesome by Neil Pasricha.  You know how glass-half-full, feel-good reads can sometimes go down kind of -- icky?  Well, this one doesn't.  It's sort of like The Little Book of Christmas Joys but for a new generation of those in need of Christmas commiseration -- a generation with a sense of humor.  Keenly yet kindly, it captures the weird cocktail of awkwardness and wonder that is the holidays.  Also, it's catchy, and a lot of it rhymes.

It's long been a dream of mine to set up Candy Land on a table at Christmas -- and not play it.  (The relevance of this will, I promise, become apparent in the very next sentence.)  This snippet from The Book of (Holiday) Awesome, entitled "Nailing the perfect move in a board game on Christmas Eve" inspired me to do it already:

"Holiday time is board game time.  I think it's because there's just something quiet and old-fashioned about opening the dusty closet and pulling out the old family favorites from yesteryear.  With ages spread across the spectrum, board games are a great equalizer." (44)

Yes, the holidays are a time for getting together and giving back.  And I don't just mean returning that hideous housecoat from Great Aunt Irma (although The Book of (Holiday) Awesome offers ideal advice for handling just that situation under the entry "When the gift receipt is already in the box.").  As the Little Book of Christmas Joys suggests (really, its wisdom is boundless), "make a friend of an enemy this Christmas (entry 209)," "welcome a new family to your neighborhood with a plate of Christmas goodies (entry 225)," and/or "Let a child decorate a small Christmas tree just the way he likes for his bedroom (entry 192).

Because Christmas is, as they say, for children.  And crafting.  And oh yeah, trees:

Your Christmas tree is a microcosm -- nay, a mini-mascot -- of your Christmas, and, in a sense, of your life.  (That's why The House Without a Christmas Tree is so chilling.)  As is how you decorate it.  Do you put on tinsel a strand at a time or toss handfuls of the stuff willy-nilly?  Was it a much younger you, or maybe your daughter, who made that pine cone and yarn contraption dangling from a strand of multicolored (or white or blinking) lights?  And who's the needlepoint/ceramics/wood carving enthusiast, Eagles fan, or world traveler who decked the boughs with bits of DIY, menacing birds, or miniature scenes of the Mediterranean?  All of that stuff tells the story of you, and in my opinion, the more madcap the motif, the better the story.

On that note, have a very merry.

Hat Trick Treats Without the Cleats

Very Cherry Necklace

Top: Arizona Jeans, JCPenney

Skirt: Modcloth

Shoes: Qupid, Alloy

Bag: Marshalls

Hat: Modcloth

Belt: Wet Seal

Sunglasses: Mudd, Kohl's

Ready Set Wren Necklace

Top: Bongo, Sears

Skirt: Modcloth

Shoes: Kensie, DSW

Bag: Gifted

Hat: JCPenney

Sunglasses: Relic, Kohl's

Woodland Wendy Necklace

Top: Delia's

Skirt: ROSS Dress for Less

Shoes: Payless

Bag: Candie's, Kohl's

Hat: Gifted

Belt: Apt. 9, Kohl's

Sunglasses: Mudd, Kohl's

Because: 

1) This winter has been "tricky" so far, and as such, too mild for hats -- felt, feathered, or otherwise.

2) Cleats are never a good fashion statement, not to mention the perpetrator of many a lawn massacre.  

3) "Mele Kalikimaka" never gets old.  Which has nothing to do with the hat trick pun but is a nice tie-in for the December tank tops.  And also for my Christmas palm tree.

That's all for now.  Stay tuned for a (marginally) more Christmasy post later this week.

Home on the Strange

Baby Boho Bib Necklace

Leopard top: Express, Marshalls

Cami: So, Kohl's

Skirt: So, Kohl's

Shoes: Ami Clubwear

Bag: Delia's

Coat: BCBG, Macy's

Sunglasses: JCPenney

Belt: Gifted 

 Fanfare Flare Necklace

Top: Marshalls

Jeans: Mudd, Kohl's

Shoes: Call it Spring, JCPenney

Bag: Betsey Johnson, ROSS Dress for Less

Sunglasses: Rampage, Boscov's

Artie Arrow Necklace

Some saggy baggy elephant leg tie-dyed tights that I cut, sewed, and braided into a belt. Waist not want not, I always say.

Tee: So, Kohl's

Cami: So, Kohl's

Jeans: Vanilla Star, Target

Shoes: Betseyville, Macy's

Bag: Gifted

Jacket: Candie's, Kohl's

Belt: We Love Colors tights repurposed by The Tote Trove

Sunglasses: JCPenney

Rustic Rainbow Necklace

Sweater: Mossimo, Target

Tank: Mossimo, Target

Skirt: Bar III, Macy's

Shoes: a. n. a., JCPenney

Bag: Gifted

Coat: Worthington, JCPenney

If I haven't said so before, Brigantine is a beautiful island brimming with places to walk and things to see.  Which is fine and dandy in the summer.  But once fall digs in its (cute boot-shod) heels, I always fear that I'll be forced to hang up my sneakers.  Not this year.  I found that I kind of like the crisper weather (although to be fair, it's been a lot less crisp than usual, courtesy of El Nino).  For one thing, when I want to snap a few pictures, it's easier to shed the gloves than it is to trowel on more sunscreen.  Also, there's something strange yet peaceful about seeing summery landmarks at rest and -- in a sense -- out of context after the summer people have all headed home.  Kind of like catching a rodeo clown in sweats on his day off -- watching a documentary.  Because a beach is like a range, seaweed and tumbleweed and lobsters and scorpions all second cousins cartwheeling across the same sandy stage.  (And apparently a range is like a desert, given the bent of my metaphors.)  This week's pieces reflect this design dichotomy, adornments, as they were, for dune buggy and pickup drivers alike.  

'Cause ladies can drive pickups, too.  Although admittedly not this lady.  Now, for a few sights I've seen: